


The Aches That Bind Us

by bevans87



Series: Shea Trevelyan [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Betrayal, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Humor, Lyrium Withdrawal, Mutual Pining, My First Smut, Nightmares, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Assault, Scars, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn, Smut, Spoilers, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 63
Words: 318,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9935453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bevans87/pseuds/bevans87
Summary: Shea Trevelyan was raised to be a templar.  Being the third born in a noble family left her few choices.  Her desire to help others and her commitment to joining The Templar Order, instead of become a cloistered sister, would take her far from home for the first time in her life.  This new adventure would change her life forever, for better or for worse.





	1. It's So Hard To Say Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** indicates either a shift in time or perspective. I won't write this every time, probably because I'll forget. LOL.
> 
> Hope you like it!

She watches as the sun crests over the lip of her open stained glass window, the cool autumn wind brushing against her face.  Her favorite season.  Her window overlooks the front courtyard and yet she can still smell the bread baking in the kitchen, the smell of spices and yeast.  She is already dressed for the day, yet she sits on her bed, one knee pulled to her chest.  Her life of dedication begins today and her heart aches.  She knew this day would come.  Her whole life she knew.  And yet she doesn’t want to leave.  Living a life that she doesn’t really agree with.  It’s not that she doesn’t believe in the Maker, or Andraste, it’s just not her focus.  She doesn’t let fear of how the Maker will see her dictate her choices.  She’ll ask for guidance now and again, but to now have to be in his service…

She rests her chin on her knee and closes her eyes.  Fighting her emotions and struggling to commit her environment to memory.  This is her favorite place.  Well, second favorite, but the first could be easily replicated no matter where she was.  She focuses on the smell, the feel of the wind, and warmth of her bed.

A gentle tap on her door stirs her from her trance.  She clears her throat to make sure it is clear of all indication of her melancholy.  “Come in.”

A small, redheaded elf peaks her head in the doorway.  “Mistress Trevelyan?  Are you decent?”

“I’ve told you a hundred times, Moira, you can call me Shea.  And yes.”

The elf pushes the door fully open.  She is carrying a tray with bread, fruit, and a glass of water on it.  “My apologies, Mistress.”  She can hear the tones of sorrow sprinkled in the elf’s voice.  Through she is but a servant, Moira is the closest thing Shea has to a friend.  “I brought you some breakfast… before your journey.  I know how much you enjoy the bread when it’s hot.”  She sets the tray on the bed next to Shea and turns to leave.

“Wait.”  The elf stops and turns to face her.  “Will you… join me?  I am not particularly hungry.  We could… share it.”  The elf smiles and gently closes the door.  She gently sits on the foot of the bed and folds her bare feet underneath her.  Shea smiles and motions to the tray.  Moira grabs a grape and pops it in her mouth.

Shea pulls her other leg up to her chest and hugs them both.  She closes her eyes for a moment, gathering her strength and resolve.  This is harder than she thought it would be.  She slowly opens her eyes and her gaze drifts to her bag.  It’s full of the small amount of items she is being allowed to bring with her.  It’s mostly clothes and other essentials, but a few trinkets are hidden as well.  Her chest tightens thinking of them and she closes her eyes again.

She feels a cool hand press lightly on her knee.  She opens her eyes and makes eye contact with her elven friend.  Moira’s emerald eyes are full of sympathy.  Shea’s resolve shatters.  She rests her forehead on Moira’s hand and cries.  “I don’t want to leave.”

“I know, Mistress.  I… May I speak freely?” 

She chuckles softly, “That’s never stopped you before.” 

“I consider you my friend, I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

“You saved me.  You didn’t have to.  Yet you did.  I’m not sure I can ever thank you enough for that.  My clan died fleeing the Blight and I was a lost child in a strange land.  When most shems showed me nothing but disdain and I thought I was going to die, starving in the streets, or killed for what little I had, you found me.  You knelt down and opened your pack.  I backed away from you having never met a nice shem and naturally didn’t trust you.  You pulled out a small loaf of bread.”  She reaches to the tray and picks up the steaming bread.  “This bread and held it out to me.”  She extends the bread to Shea who slowly takes it.  “You could see the fear in my eyes.  It wasn’t until you ate some of the bread that I greedily snatched it from your grasp and ate.  You waited.  Once I was done, you handed me your water skin.  I greedily drank that too.  Ma serannas.  You smiled at me.  I thought you understood me.  You didn’t, of course.  You stood and held out your hand.  I reluctantly took it and you helped me stand.”

“You know I know this story right?”  Shea nibbles on the bread and she watches Moira talk.

“Yes, but you don’t know it from my perspective.  Kirkwall was a scary place after the explosion, especially for a displaced Dalish from Ferelden.  I didn’t fit with the city elves and I definitely didn’t fit with shems.  I still don’t know why you thought to stop outside the Hanged Man to help an elven child, but I will be forever grateful.  Since then, we’ve become friends.  You gave me a home and that’s not something I ever thought I’d say about a building.  You have a kind heart and a brave soul.  The work you will be doing for the Chantry can only make it better.”

“What am I going to do without you?  You always know what to say.”

Moira hand gently lifts Shea’s chin to force her to make eye contact.  “You have never and will never shy away from helping others.  I know you hate being forced to do anything, but as you’ve said, you were raised for this.  You saw this coming.  You are not one to shy away from duty because it scares you.  And though I will be here, and not by your side, I am with you in spirit.  As you are with me.  Ma falon.”

Shea wipes the tears from her eyes.  She finishes eating the bread and stands.  She picks up her bag and slings it onto her back.  “It’s time.”  Moira stands and faces her friend.  They hug.  After a few moments, they separate.  A large smile breaks across Shea’s face.  “Dareth shiral.”  Moira laughs loudly.  “Keep working.  Your pronunciation still needs work.  And safe journey to you, my friend.”

“I’ll write you.  I promise.”

“You better.”  Moira picks up the tray and they leave the bedroom together.  Yet, before closing the door, Shea takes one last look at it.  With a sigh she closes the door and heads down the stairs to meet her uncle.

She walks behind Moira as they descend the stairs.  They reach a small landing with an open door that leads to one of the servants’ areas.  Moira swallows hard as she prepares herself for their final goodbye.  “Safe journey, Mistress Trevelyan.” 

Shea smiles at the show of formality.  “Thank you, Moira.”  And with one final look, Moira scampers into the open door, closing it behind her.

Alone again, she leans against the wall and sighs.  “ _You can do this.  It’s just like going to help at Kirkwall… only permanent.  Be a big girl, make you family proud.  No pressure there.”_   She pushes herself off the wall and continues her descent.  As she enters the near empty main hall, a man in a shining suit of armor stands out to her.  She would know it anywhere.  She quickly closes the distance and surprises the templar with a huge hug.  He instantly hugs her back.  “Well, good morning to you as well, niece.”

“I am so happy they sent you and not some other random… I’m glad you’re here.”  He smiles, though he is in full armor, he can still feel how tightly she is hugging him.  He gently moves her away from him.  He holds her by the shoulders and makes eye contact.

“We have a lot to talk about and a long way to go.  The plans have changed slightly.  I hope you packed something warm.”  He smiles as he sees her brow furrow.  “Now, before you get upset, this is probably the greatest thing that could possibly happen to either of us.”

She waits for a moment and when he doesn’t continue, “Uncle Hayden, if you don’t tell me what you’re talking about, I’m going to punch you.”  Which makes him laugh.

“The Knight-Commander has asked that I represent Ostwick at a conclave that Her Most Holy is holding at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  Of course, I am beyond honored to do so and must leave right away.”

“And… what does that mean for me?”

He smiles down at her.  “Fear not, for you will be coming with me.  The Knight-Commander has faith that any Trevelyan joining the ranks of the faithful is already skilled enough in battle that training on the road might actually be helpful for you.  He saw how you were in Kirkwall.  Hadn’t even taken vows and were already tending the flock.”

She lets that sink in for a moment.  “Wait!  I’m representing House Trevelyan at a Divine Conclave?!”  He claps her on the arm and laughs.

“You are very good at reading between the lines.  And yes, you are.  Who better?  Your brothers cannot go, they may one day take over the house.  You are already pledged to the order.  You are perfect.  And more importantly, your parents approve.”

With that, almost as if on cue, Bann and Lady Trevelyan enter the main hall.  She can tell they’ve come to say goodbye and probably add more stress to an increasingly stressful situation.  She quickly composes herself and walks to meet them.  She bows ever so slightly.  Each parent holds out a hand and she takes one in each of hers.  The Trevelyan family isn’t much for words, they are people of action.  Traditionally, when one leaves to do their duty as the younger children by joining the Chantry, the good bye has no words.  Her father takes her mother’s hand and the three of them form a triangle.  They bow their heads.  She supposes she is supposed to be praying during this time, but her heart is racing.  This is it.  Once they release her hands, they are releasing her to do the Marker’s work.  This is will no longer be her home.  She is meant to turn, without a word, mount her horse and go.

She watched this happen when her uncle left home when she was just a small child.  The entire family gathered in the main hall.  Some distant relation already in the Chantry would come to get them.  Not a single word was said.  Not a single sound made.  Just the sound of occasional whimpering.  She doesn’t hear that now and it suddenly occurs to her that her brothers are not there.  Her heart sinks.  Where are they?  She fells her mother squeeze her hand tightly and she squeezes back.  Tears threaten to bubble over, but she forces them back down.  Her mother doesn’t want to let go, she can feel it.  Then her father, a man of strong morals and a dedication to duty, not one for showing any emotion, except maybe anger, squeezes her hand.  When she squeezes back, he squeezes harder.  Why?  She forces her tears back down.  Why would he be squeezing so damn hard?  Is he proud?  Is he… going to actually miss her?  Does he actually feel love of his only daughter?  _“Oh Maker, help me.  Don’t cry.  Do not cry.  He raised a warrior.  Show him that.”_  

At the same moment, her parents release her hands and they fall limply to her side.  She raises her head, she hopes it looks like she is filled with pride.  She makes eye contact with each parent, first with the tear filled eyes of her mother.  Then with the eyes of her father.  She instantly wishes she hadn’t, for he is wearing an expression she has never seen on her father.  She has to fight with everything in her being to not rush forward and hug him.  It is not the Trevelyan way.  She sees him slightly raise his chin.  _“Right.  Chin up.”_   She slightly bows her head.  With a deep breath, she turns on her heel and marches from the main hall towards the main doors.

Through the open doors, she can see two horses already saddled for the journey.  Standing next to them are her brothers.  She continues her steady walk.  As soon as she hears the doors close behind her, she runs.  They catch her.  She still refuses to cry, but is happy to see them.  The siblings are close.  Unlike most children of noble houses, they didn’t fight.  There was no back stabbing or plotting, just love and support.  They trained together and went on adventures together.  It dawned on her why they weren’t in the main hall for the traditional goodbye as she felt cool tears drop onto her face.  She pushes away from them to see which of them was crying, to realize it is both of them.

She puts of hand on each of their faces.  She can’t find words.  There aren’t any.  Three of them place their arms around each other and touch their foreheads to one another.  Similar to the triangle formed inside.  She is the first to break it.  “Brandon…” 

Her eldest brother smiles.  “I know, take care of my brother.”  She smiles.  Brandon reaches up and wipes a tear from her face with his gloved hand.  When had she started crying?

Her eyes meet with her second brother.  He has a soft heart and this is very hard for him.  He is doing everything he can to not fall apart, but she knows exactly what to say.  She knows a secret he did not know she knew.  She puts her hand under his chin and really makes him look at her, “Emeric.” He sighs loudly.  “Take care of Moira.”  His eye widen and she smiles.

“You know?” 

She laughs, “Of course, I know.  She’s the one who told me after all.”

Brandon looks between them in confusion and then it clicks, “Oh!  _She’s_ the girl you have eyes for?”  Emeric nods.  Brandon claps him on the back.  “Such a progressive thinker!” 

Emeric rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to his sister.  “Please don’t leave me alone with him.” They all hug one last time.

Her uncle clears his throat and they quickly separate.  Brandon reaches over to her horse and grabs the cloak and gloves that are sitting on the saddle.  Emeric takes the gloves and hands them to her.  She puts them on.  Brandon slings the midnight blue cloak around her shoulders and buckles it.  She looks down at it.  “Is this…”

“Mine?  Originally, but it’s yours now.  I hear Haven is a very cold place and it’s thicker than yours… so… yeah.”  Brandon rubs his bicep and looks away, clearly trying to compose himself.  Emeric seems to have given up on that and closes the distance between them, giving her the biggest bear hug he can.  She pats him gently on the back.  “Alright, can’t breathe.”  He lets her go, kisses her forward, and then walks briskly into the house.  He can’t watch her actually leave. 

Brandon shrugs and goes over to the horse.  “Uh, your sword is here for you,” he pats a long pouch on the side of the horse.  “Might want to strap it on your back once you actually get on the road, because of… but you know that.” 

She places her gloved hand on his face.  “Always the big brother.  Now off you go.  Maybe take Emeric to the tavern or something.”  They smile.  She mounts her horse next to her uncle, who is sitting there patiently waiting.  Brandon backs away from the horse.

Her uncle whispers, “If you don’t leave now, you never will.”  She sighs.  “We can at least make one hell of an exit.”  He spurs his horse and takes off.  She smiles at her brother and does the same.  They ride full speed through the gates.  She breathes in the crisp air and watches as the sun finally raises fully from behind a mountain, pushing the last bits of purple from the sky.  She clears her mind and tries to imprint this moment to memory.  Her life is about to change drastically.  What she doesn’t know is that it might not be in the way she expects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave your comments below! All feedback is welcomed! And yes I mean ALL. I plan on posting a chapter a day.
> 
> I apologize for any typos. I think I got them all, but I suppose we'll see.
> 
> UPDATE: July 19, 2018  
> Just going through and reading this for errors and things in a build up to resume part two.


	2. Wide Open Spaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't wait lol
> 
> *** = time change/big perspective change

They ride in silence for miles.  She guesses that he was letting it all sink in.  Probably waiting until she isn’t being an emotional girl about it all.  She has no idea how they were going to get to Haven, she assumes at some point they’d have to get on a boat and cross the Waking Sea.  The idea is actually kind of exciting.  She has never left the Free Marches and now she is headed to one of the most sacred spots in all of Thedas.  She has read tales of the Hero of Ferelden but had a hard time really picturing it.  The places she went, the people she met, and the discoveries she made while saving Ferelden from the Fifth Blight, becoming Warden-Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, and also Queen of Ferelden.  She hopes during the trip they might stop in a few places she went, but the war might prevent that.

She knows where the rest of her family stands on the war, yet she really doesn’t know where she stands.  Having never really met a mage, she feels she should reserve her judgement until she knows more.  Her uncle is a Templar, as is a good chunk of her extended family, so she supposes she should side with them.  After seeing the devastation suffered by an apostate in Kirkwall and the uprising that followed, she had a hard time staying objective.  Never one to judge a book by its cover, she knows that no matter what side of the war she is on, innocent people are being hurt by it.  So for now, she remains as neutral as possible.  Not that anyone has asked her for her opinion.

She isn’t even sure why the subject came to mind.  Probably because of where they are heading.  The Conclave is a chance for peace after all.  Mages and Templars tearing up the world isn’t good for anyone and this is a chance to end it.  She admires the Divine for trying.  A thought occurs to her suddenly.

“Why didn’t we take a ship from Ostwick?  Wouldn’t that have been faster?”  Her uncle looks over at her.  She waits for a response, not getting one right away, she speaks again.  “It’s just that… Haven is in Ferelden, pretty far south if my memory serves.  Are we making a stop somewhere before we cross the Waking Sea?”

“Why so curious about our travel plans?”  Her uncle is smiling.  He knows exactly why.  “If you must know, we are meeting up with a few more templars in Kirkwall and taking a ship from there.  It… isn’t particularly safe to be on the road right now and it’s best to travel in numbers.  Therefore, we’re meeting some of the order who are also going to the Conclave and traveling with them.”

“You mean because of the rebellion?”

He nods.  He must really be worried if he’s taking the time to travel this far out of the way.  “No need to worry, my dear.  It is merely a precaution.  And look at it this way, since we’ll be doing some of your training on the road, you won’t just have me to spar with.”  She groans.  Travelling is tiring enough without having to train at the same time.  She leans forward and rests her forehead on her horse’s neck.  She then hears him let out a hearty laugh.  She looks over at him with confusion.  “Oh you should have seen your face!  Templar training can wait.  I already know you can fight.  You need to change up your methods a bit, like learning to use a shield properly, but that can wait until we get back.  For now, enjoy the trip.  Take everything in.  Learn the land.  We can teach you to track and hunt.  We’re avoiding the big cities on the way there, too much fighting around those parts, but on the way back… in any case.  We need you alert on the road and for that you need to be rested.”

“Is it really that bad?  I was just thinking about the war.  I know Kirkwall was bad, but that was already over before the rebellion sprung up in earnest.”  She had seen that aftermath first hand.  Helped look for survivors in the Chantry, helped remove rumble, and bodies, from the streets.  She tended to wounds as best she could, and offered kindness to those who needed it.  Her chests tightens as she thinks back to the nightmares the things she saw in Kirkwall caused.

She squeezes her eyes closed and takes a few deep breathes.  Her uncle watches her.  She has a look on her face that he has seen more times than he can count.  He has had that look.  “Kirkwall was bad.  Yes.  But the fighting there ended long before you arrived.  With the Circle all but wiped out and parts of the city in ruins, there was no one left to physically fight.  Sure there were other things going on, but still.  The rebellion is largely happening in Ferelden as most of the rebel mages fled to Redcliffe.  Yet another reason we are avoiding it.”

“Do you have plans to…?”

He holds up his hand to stop her.  “Don’t worry about that now.  You are just a recruit after all.  The mage rebellion will hopefully be finished before you can properly begin your training.  That is, if this Conclave works.”

They ride in silence until they arrive in Kirkwall.  They dismount and meet a handful of other templars.  She goes through the motions of meeting them all.  Her mind is otherwise engaged.  Her mind has her seriously rethinking opting to join the templars.  Maybe she should have just become a sister.  She’s never been in a proper battle, never had to kill anyone.  She enjoys swinging her sword in the sparring ring, but her sheltered life has kept her away from any real fights.

Her uncle buys some supplies from a merchant at the docks with her walking beside him not really paying attention to what is actually happening.  Fortunately, it is all very uneventful.  Before she even realizes what’s happening, her uncle leads her to a dock.  The horses are being led onto the ship.  This breaks her trance and she goes to her horse.  The chocolate brown mare looks terrified.  Like her, the horse has never left the Free Marches, much less been on a ship of any kind.  She takes the horse’s lead from the disgruntled man trying to force the animal to move.  “Here.  Let me.”  He nods and backs away.

She starts humming and petting the horse.  The horse slowly calms and allows Shea the lead her onto the ship and then into the hold.  Once inside, the horse seems to feel a bit more at home, since it looks like a large stable, much like the one back home.  Shea secures the horse and returns to the top deck of the ship.  Then it hits her.  Any reservations she had fly out the window and she excitedly explores.  “Maker’s breathe!  I’m on an actual ship!”

Once the ship leaves, she is very surprised by how she feels.  Her uncle warned her about sea sickness.  She feels the ship swaying from side to side and moving up and down as it goes over the waves.  She is over joyed that she doesn’t feel sick.  She turns to tell her uncle just in time to see him lurching over the side of the ship next to another templar.  She takes a deep breath of sea air and feels completely fine.  She goes to the front of the ship, gazing over the railing.  She watches the waves crash against it and the ship cuts through the blue water like a knife, creating waves of its own.  She reaches up to her neatly braided bun and pulls it down.  She unbraids it and lets her long, wavy, auburn hair free.  The strong wind catches it and fans it out behind her.  She holds out her arms and pretends that she is flying.  She decides in that moment that she loves sailing.

For a few seconds, she feels totally free.  The wind then changes directions.  Her hair smacks her full force in the face and she is knocked off balance.  She grabs the railing and helps herself to the ground.  She looks like a wild woman.  She looks around and catches her reflection on her uncle’s armor as he rushes towards her.  She falls onto her side and bursts into laughter.

“I thought you were going over,” her uncle pants as he joins her on the deck.  “You look as if you’ve been electrocuted by some spell gone wrong.”  Her laughter is contagious and he laughs right along with her.  Eventually the laughter subsides and she attempts to tie her mass of hair back.  “It’s nice to see you laugh again.  I was sure all this talk of war was going to scare you into sisterhood.”

“I thought about it.  But I’ve been training all my life to be a templar, though I never liked shields,” she pauses to see if he caught the joke.  He smiles.  “I would hate to be cooped up in a dusty old Chantry anyway.”

He chuckles, “That could still happen.  You could be assigned to a Circle or...”

She holds up her hand to stop him.  “One step at a time, Uncle.  This is all very overwhelming as it is.”

“The sun will be down soon.  Need me to show you where you’re sleeping?”  She shakes her.  “I’ll leave you to it then.”  He raises slowly.  The ship lurches on a particularly large wave and he covers his mouth.  Satisfied that he has nothing left to expel, he shakily leaves her to sit at the front of the ship.

Time passes.  She is officially bored of the novelty of her nautical voyage.  She wants solid ground and something, anything, to do.  Some crew member on the ship showed her how to get up the crow’s nest.  The wind is stronger up there, but they can always use an extra pair of eyes to man it.  And so there she sits, bored out of her mind, hoping for land.  The crew explained something for her to look out for when they were nearing land, the types of birds mostly, nothing too complicated.

She is staring out into space when a bird flies in front of her face.  “Was that the bird I’m supposed to look for?”  She looks around and sees the bird.  “That’s it!  Oh Maker!  Where’s that scope?”  She feels around for the golden scope the crewman gave her and jumps to her feet.  She looks through it and sure enough she sees land, and ships, lots of ships.  “Hey!  I see land!  And ships!”

Her crewman friend scurries up to her.  She hands him the scope and points.  ”You’re a natural, kid.”  She smiles.  It’s been forever since someone called her kid.  It’s also not this first time she’s been called a natural at something that takes hard work.  “Better get back down and gather your things.  I hear your group is in a rush and want to disembark as soon as we dock.”

“How much longer do we have?”

The crewman looks through the scope, he makes some calculations in his head, and says, “I’d say about a half hour.  A whole one if it takes too long to dock.  Looks crowded.”  She smiles at him and climbs down the rigging.  Once on deck, she sprints to where she has stashed her things and makes sure everything is there.  She slings her cloak around her shoulders and goes to check on her horse.  The templars are already down there.  Saddling and watering their horses.  She sets her things down and retrieves her horse’s gear.  Someone rushes to help her, but she brushes past him.  “Lady Trevelyan,” his accent is a very think Orlesian one and it throws her, “A lady shouldn’t prepare her own stead.  Allow me.”  He goes to take the gear her hands and she almost lets him.  Old habits of a noblewoman die hard.

Then her eyes meet with another templar.  He is almost glaring at her.  She can’t understand why and then she looks for her uncle.  He shakes his head and looks at the man.  _“Oh!  Those men are to be my equals!  I’m not a noble anymore.”_   She turns her attention back to the Orlesian man.  “I’m terribly sorry, ser.  But I must decline your assistance.  My templar brothers might not like it if they had to work and I didn’t.”

The man gasps dramatically.  “You?  A templar?  Why would such an exquisite creature want to cast aside the life of privilege she has so obviously become accustomed?”

She looks down at herself and realizes that she does look a travelling noble. _“I need new clothes.”_ She smiles politely at the man.  “Ser, it is an honor and a privilege to serve.”

He scoffs, “You must have older siblings then.”  He leaves in a huff.

She shrugs and continues walking.  She sees the templar that was glaring at her nod and continue saddling his horse.  As soon as she arrives at her horse, it dawns on her that she has never done this unassisted.  She hoped her remembered how.  The last thing she needed was to fall from her horse in front of everyone.  She did the best she could and looked around for her uncle.  She motioned for him to come over and in a hushed voice said, “I’m not entirely sure I did this right.  Could you check so I don’t fall off?”

He smiles and checks the horse without saying a word.  She sees him tighten a few straps and makes a mental note for next time.  He stands and pats the horse on the side.  “Got it?”

She nods.  He turns to walk away and she taps his arm.  He turns back with an eyebrow raised.  “Listen, I’m not sure if there will be time.  I understand we will be in a hurry once we dock.  But, do you think we could stop and get me some… clothes.”

He laughs.  “You want to go shopping?”

“No! No… I just think maybe looking like a noblewoman is not exactly the best idea.”

He places a hand on her shoulder.  “Let’s go see if anyone has anything they can spare that might fit you.”  He puts his arm around her shoulder and all but drags her to the other templars.  She finds herself feeling uncharacteristically shy.  “Gentlemen.  Our newest recruit is in a bit of a bind.  As you are all aware, she’s doesn’t look like a templar recruit.  Who wants to help her remedy that?”

They all laugh.  “Hey!  Don’t worry about it recruit!  Gordon here was the same way when he got recruited.”

A tall, scruffy looking man rumbles with laughter. He claps her on the shoulder, “At least you figured it out before being mugged on the way to the Spire.  I had to walk to the nearest village wrapped in my bedroll.”

They all laugh again and she joins them this time.  They all start digging through their packs.  As she watches them laugh and joke, she realizes even the smallest among them is larger than her.  These clothes are going to be swimming.  The smallest and youngest in the group, a redheaded young man named Henry, hands her a stack of folded clothes.  “Hope those work.  And sorry for the glare earlier.  It was more at that sleazy Orlesian man than you.”

“Have something against Orlesians?”

He laughs, “I’m Fereldan.”  He smiles at her and walks away.

When she gets somewhere private, she finds the clothes are very simple.  Brown pants, a green long-sleeved embroidered tunic, dark brown boots, a leather belt, greaves, and a few armor pieces to protect her upper body.  She knows that it will be cool, as they are officially in Ferelden so when is it not cold, so she wraps a light brown scarf around her.  She goes through her bag and takes out anything that looks remotely noble, which means she only has her brother's cloak, tights, socks, and underwear left.  She makes sure her small hidden items are secure and closes the bag.  Checking that her hair is still neatly braided is its bun, she scoops up her old clothes and ascends the stairs to the deck.

She walks over to the railing and looks down at the water below.  She holds her old clothes over the side.  She takes a deep breath and drops them into the water below.  Another goodbye.  Not like she’d miss the clothes, just what they meant.  She doesn’t want to dwell on it, however.  Her new clothes feel more like her true self anyway, even if they are a little big.

She goes back below decks to tie her bag onto her horse.  Her uncle is waiting.  He notices she how thin her bag is.  “What happened to the rest of your clothes?”  

“They went swimming.”

“Ah.  Well, that’s too bad.  We’re all staying below until we’ve docked.  Once we’re clear, we’re leaving right away.  This whole ship thing didn’t save us anytime at all.”

“We’ll make it.”

He nods.  “It’s a four day ride to Haven.  It’ll be hard, but yes, we’ll make it.”  He turns to leave and stops.  “I should warn you.  As members of the Templar Order, it is our duty to protect those in the Temple of Sacred Ashes during the Conclave.  Which means we will be actually staying in the Temple.”

“Oh wow.  That’s… Maker… I’m honored.”

He smiles, “That’s exactly the response I was hoping for.  Now, obviously, you won’t be permitted to be on duty, as you’re an untrained recruit, so feel free to wonder and mingle.  It’s sure to be… an experience.”

The trip to Haven turns out to be rougher than expected.  The first day and night pass peacefully.  Shea spars with Henry, the templar that glared at her.  She learns it is his first time out of the Free Marches since becoming a Templar.  He was stationed in the Ostwick Circle when it fell.  They hadn’t assigned him anywhere else, so they assigned him to her uncle’s guard.

“Wait.  My uncle’s guard?”

“Oh.  We all thought you knew.  Knight-Captain Trevelyan is in charge of this trip.  He wanted men that could be trusted to help make sure no one got violent at the Temple.  I was in Starkhaven when I got the letter and rode for Kirkwall as soon as I got it.  Got there a little early mind you, but I was not missing this chance!  I mean _THE_ Temple of Sacred Ashes and _THE_ Divine.  I hope I get to meet her.  I probably won’t, but Maker that would make my life!”

She enjoys his enthusiasm.  The sparring match wasn’t much of a contest.  Templars really know how to use a shield.  She is used to a two-handed weapon.  After beating her a few times with a sword and shield, he lets her use her own weapon.  It is still a close one.  She didn’t know how he did it, but he managed to disarm her with just his shield.  It made her start to doubt her skills as a warrior.

Seeing this, he smiles.  “Hey, don’t get down about it.  We’re a fantastic fighter.  With a little refined training, I bet you’d be able to best me no problem.”

“Thanks.”  She has realized that she was training like careful noble her whole life.  It is time to push herself.  She volunteers to take the first watch.  And once everyone is settled in, she starts to work out.  She needs to build more muscle.  Her legs are strong, but she felt her grip and arms needed to be stronger.  She uses a tree to do pull ups.  And just when her arms start to burn, she empties her bag, fills it with stones, slings it over her shoulders, and continues.  By the time she could no longer move her arms, her watch has ended.  She crashes sweaty and exhausted onto her bedroll.

The next day her arms are on fire.  It hurt to move them, but she knows that they will stiffen if she doesn’t get them active.  So, she packs her things, breaks down her tent, and loads her horse so it would ready when they wanted to leave.  She is back on the tree when her uncle emerges from his tent.  He looks over at Gordon, who happens to be the templar next to him.  “How long has she been doing that?”

“Not long, ser.  I think maybe her arms might be sore from sparring last night.”

He walks over to her and she drops off the branch.  “Morning, Uncle.”

“How long have you been out here?”

“Oh, not long.  Uh… 10 minutes? I’m not sure.   Just needed to get my arms moving before the locked up on me.”

“And why would they do that?”

She stretches her arms over her head.  “I was working out for hours last night and they really took a beating.”

“Hours?”

“Yeah, I worked out while I took watch.  Don’t worry it didn’t distract me.  It’s just been so long since any one bested me and that was sort of my punishment.”

“Just be careful.  I need you alert.”

“Yes, ser.”  His men have already packed his tent and her uncle mounts his horse.  “Let’s move out.”

She has no idea why, but the whole time none of the templars spoke.  None.  Even when she tried talking to Henry, he’d shush her.  I doesn’t take long to find out why.  Her uncle, who is at the front of group, suddenly stops his horse and gets off.  The rest do the same in almost perfect unison.  After she gets off her horse, Henry reaches over and ties her horse to his own.  She isn’t sure why.  When weapons are silently drawn, she does the same.  She curses under her breath.  Her arms burned.  They protest under the weight of her sword.

They spread out almost silent even with their armor.  Her uncle motions for her to stay put.  She does as she is told.  The horses, as if they had training of their own, move back up the road.  They find a tree and gather around it.  Her horse is pulled along with them.  Then she understands why Henry had tied her horse to his.  Otherwise, the poor thing would just be standing the middle of the road.  Much like she is.  She doesn’t like that.  She is out in the open while the men around her are preparing for battle.  She is an open target.

It makes her more aware, more alert.  As fear and adrenaline pulse through her body, she feels her senses open.  Her sight becomes clearer and her hearing more acute.  It is the only reason she is able to dodge fast enough as a ball of fire comes flying towards her head.  She rolls out of the way and points with her sword to mark the location it came from.  That is when two of the templars charged.  They rush up the hill, swarming the mage.  Then all hell breaks loose, well, her definition.

This is her first battle ever.  Her heart is in her throat.  The air around her feels like it is charged with static.  She assumes it is magic.  She has never fought a mage.  She is afraid.  She closes her eyes for a split second, focusing herself.  She turns off her racing mind, opens her eyes, and charges.  She is just in time to stop the mage attacking Henry.  She knocks the mage to the ground sending the bolt of lightning he was summoning skyward.  With the mage on the ground, she wastes no time and attacks again.  The mage makes eye contact with Shea as her sword plunges into his chest.  The life snuffed from his eyes.  Shea turns to help Henry off the ground and the battle rages on.

It doesn’t take long for the group to best these rogue mages.  Henry claps her on the back when it is over.  She vaguely hears him saying something about maybe being the first templar without a shield.  Her uncle comes over and claps her on the back, saying something along the lines of baptism by fire.  She quietly uses a rag to clean her sword and goes to retrieve her horse as the rest search the bodies.  It is sometime before she speaks again.  She looks over at Henry.  He is smiling to himself.  She hopes her voice doesn’t sound as weak as she feels.

“Henry?”

“Yes?”

“How many people have you…?”

“It’s really best not to think about.  We did what we had to.  It’s us or them.  Always is.  You saved my life, focus on that.”

She looks down at her still bloody gloves.  “I’ve never…”

“It gets easier.  Well, not really, but you get used to it.  You learn that if you don’t act, then people you know or someone you are protecting gets hurt.”

“Is it always like that?”

“Ha, no.  _We_ don’t attack on sight, but bandits and some particularly angry rebel mages do.  And bears.  They do too.  For the most part, we just stand around looking pretty.  Harrowings can be bad, but again for the most part…”

“Do you ever forget their faces?”

He sighs.  “Not really.  The first one is always, and I do mean always, the worst.  I see my first when the nightmares come.  But that’s really the only time it bothers me anymore.”  She goes silent.  Every time she blinks, she sees his face.  The hate, the pain, and then nothing.  Henry sees her shake slightly.  “Hey.  Listen.  Do you have a favorite place?  Like somewhere you can call up in your head?  Like really picture it?”  She nods.  “Think about that for a while.  Really focus.  Try to recall the details, even the tiny ones.”  She closes her eyes.  Instantly her old room pops into her head.  The way the sun comes in through the stained glass.  The smell of fresh bread.  The way the dust dances in the light as the autumn wind comes sweeping in her window.  Henry sees her smile.  “That’s it.  Now you know why I am always smiling after a battle.”

She opens her eyes, feeling a little sad, but much better.  “Thank you.  Now hurry up we don’t want to lose the others.”

The next couple of days on the way Haven seem to repeat.  Drive the horses for as long and as fast as they will go, water and rest the horses, fight mages and/or bandits, ride, water/rest, ride, fight, camp.  Repeat.  As they approach Haven, the road traffic thickens.  They slow their pace and follow it.  She looks around at the various people on the road.  Nervous mages, tense templars, Chantry sisters, and pilgrims.

She is so lost in her observation that Henry has to jab her with his armored finger to get her attention.  “Ouch!  What?”  He just points.  She looks straight ahead and just beginning to crest over the mountain in front of her is the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  Shining like a beacon as the setting sun seems to light it a blaze.  She takes a sharp intake of breath.  She has never seen something so beautiful.  She tries to memorize it.  But her memory would never be able to do the view before her justice.  They ride along the winding road in stunned silence as they slowly approach their destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know your thoughts!
> 
> UPDATE: July 19, 2018  
> Just rereading for errors and to refresh myself for when I resume part two.


	3. Supermassive Black Whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's not black... but you get the idea
> 
> I forgot to say "Italics" are thoughts.
> 
> I'm aiming to post this time every night, but if I get too excited, like earlier today, you'll get two in one day lol.

She is cold.  Extremely cold.  And impossibly uncomfortable.  She groans.  Her head is pounding.  As she slowly cracks open her eyes, a blinding pain that originates in her hand shoots like lightning up her arm.  She can’t stifle the scream that follows.  She forces herself to her knees and opens her eyes.  She is shackled!  _“What in the Marker’s…?”_ The pain flares again and she closes her fist around it.  As it fades she sees a bright green light emanating from her left hand.  As the pain slowly fades, so too did the light.  She opens her hand to see what looks to be a very deep cut, yet there is no blood.  Only the bright green light.  She stares at.  Where did it come from?  What the hell is it?

The door in front of her flies open and she closes her fist.  An angry looking woman with short black hair and armor enters.  Shea has never in her entire life had someone look at her with so much hate in their eyes.  Following behind is another other woman wearing a hood and armor.  Her hands are clasped behind her back, her face clam.  The angry woman circles her.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now. The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.”

“ _Whoa!  What?  No?”_ She feels pain rise up in her chest.  “What do you mean everyone is dead?”

The woman grabs her left arm and holds it out.  “Explain _this!”_ The cut flares, sending pain up her arm. 

“I… can’t.” The woman drops her arm.

“What do you mean you, you can’t?”

Shea’s mind is racing.  Where is she?  What happened at the conclave?  “I don’t know what that is or how it got there.”

Wrong answer.  The woman’s temper flares and she raises her had to strike her.  “You’re lying!”

The other woman stops her.  “We need her, Cassandra.”

The words repeat in her head, _everyone is dead._   She sharply inhales, “I can’t believe it.  All those people… dead.”

The other woman approaches her.  “Do you remember what happened?  How this began?”

Shea closes her eyes for a moment.  The last thing concrete was seeing the Temple sitting on the mountain top in front of her.  But there’s something else too.  Something that feels distant.  “I remember running.  Things were chasing me.  And then… a woman?”

“A woman?”  She is a little shocked, her voice says it, but her face doesn’t. 

The angry woman, Cassandra, has softened some when she approaches.  “Go to the forward camp, Leliana.  I will take her to the rift.”  Leliana nods and turns to leave.  After a moment, Shea builds enough courage to ask what happened.  Cassandra helps Shea off the ground and removes the shackles.  She replaces the shackles with rope.  “It will be easier to show you.”

Shea’s mind is going a mile a minute.  Wondering if she will be killed for something she is sure she would never do.  At this point, she isn’t even sure what that something is.  Cassandra places her hand gently on her back encouraging her to walk.  Once outside the light blinds her for a moment, but once her vision clears, she see it.  A gigantic green hole in the sky.  Rocks are floating in the air.  The Temple is gone.  From where she stands, she can’t even see where it should be.  She stares at it with shaky breath as it swirls in the sky.  _Everyone.  Dead.  Everyone._

“We call it the Breach. It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest.  All were caused by the explosion at the conclave.”

“An explosion can do that?”

“This one did.  Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.”  At that exact moment Shea sees the Breach grow, the cut on her hand flares simultaneously, shooting pain up her arm.  She cries out and falls to her knees, clutching her hand to her chest.  Cassandra kneels beside her.  “Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this but there isn’t much time.”

The pain subsides and she meets Cassandra’s gaze.  “You say it _may_ be the key.  To doing what?”

“Closing the Breach.  Whether that’s possible is something we shall discover shortly.  It is our only chance, however.  And yours.”

The way she tacked on that last bit scared Shea.  Her life is on the line.  She looks back up at the Breach.  The grief is starting to set in, but she can’t allow that to happen.  She must know what happened and even if it is unknown, if there is even a shot to closing that awful thing in the sky, then she would have to at least try.

“I understand.”

Cassandra cocks her eyebrow, “Then…?”

“I’ll do what I can.  Whatever it takes.”

The tiniest of smiles crosses Cassandra’s face, if only for a moment.  She straightens, reaches down, and helps Shea to stand.  Then proceeds through the town.  Again, more hateful looks.    She tries her best not to make eye contact with the villagers as they pass.  She feels Cassandra’s hand on her back.  It’s gentle, not pushing but guiding.  Shea can tell this is hard for her.

”They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and templars.”  The word sends a stabbing pain into her chest.  She had family there.  Trevelyans from various family branches.  Family-friends maybe.  Henry.  Her uncle.  She has to fight to remain standing.  “She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead.”  The gates open and Cassandra leads her through.  “We lash out, like the sky.  But we must think beyond ourselves, as she did.  Until the Breach is sealed.”  Cassandra stops them and walks in front her pulled out a dagger.  She flinches slightly.  “There will be a trial. I can promise no more.”  She cuts Shea’s bindings, much to her relief.  She sighs and rubs her wrists.  “Come.  It is not far.”

“Where are you taking me?”  Fear threatening to shallow her again.

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach.”  They walk together along a stone bridge.  People are hurt, praying both for those alive and those who are dead.  So many dead.  Most wrapped and being identified, some just left laying.  Her heart aches.  Where they anyone she knew?  Would they be able to send his body home?  Cassandra orders the other gate to open and they pass through.  There is only one path.  It leads up.  Shea is on autopilot.  Moving her feet one in front of the other.  More devastation.  Soldiers holding their position behind a barricade, trying to hide the fear in their eyes.  People running down the hill to Haven.  More bodies.  Some of them clearly templars.  She quickly runs to them.  Cassandra watches her closely.  She doesn’t know them.  She sighs, she stands, and continues to walk.  She sees another templar body and starts to run towards it.  She stops.  What if it is someone she knows?  Will she be able to continue with the task at hand?  She returns to the path.

As they reach the top of the hill, her mark flares violently.  She cries out and falls to the ground.  Cassandra rushes to her side and helps her stand.  “The pulses are coming faster now. The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.”

She thinks to herself, _“Oh great.  Demons.  No one said anything about demons.”_ She looks over at Cassandra, “How _did_ I survive the blast?”

Cassandra thinks for a moment, debating on whether she should tell her. “They said you… stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you’ll see soon enough.”

A lump forms in her throat.  It blew up the whole mountain top?  More bodies, more templars.  She continues forward.  Forcing herself to keep moving.  Her arm and hand burn.  Almost constantly.  As they are crossing another bridge, Shea hears a whistle overhead.  She looks up in time to see a glowing rock come flying at the bridge.  It is far too late to move.  The impact is ear splitting.  The bridge disappears from beneath her feet and she tumbles onto the frozen river.  She and Cassandra stand.  They exchange brief looks when another rocks explodes near them.  From a green pool of light, a grotesque monster starts to rise.  Cassandra draws her sword and shield and shouts, “Stay behind me!”

Shea chuckles ever so slightly, _“Oh yeah.  Go right ahead.  The unarmed woman will just stay over here.”_ And then another green pool of light forms and another monster comes out of it.  It is heading right for her.  _“Well.  Shit.”_   She quickly looks around.  “Thank the Maker!”  She snatches up the great sword from the rubble and charges.  Once both monsters are defeated, Shea sighs, closing her eyes.  “It’s over.”

When she opens them, Cassandra is pointing her sword at her.  “Drop your weapon.  _Now.”_  

Not wanting to push her luck, she puts one hand in front of her and starts lowering the sword to the ground.  “All right.  Have it your way.” 

Cassandra stops her, “Wait.”  Shea freezes.  “I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless.”  Shea straps the sword to her back.  “I should remember that you agreed to come willingly.  Take these potions.  Maker knows what we will face.”  Cassandra offers a handful of potions.  Shea takes them and stuffs them into the pouches on her belt.  Her finger brushes a small metal object in the pouch and her heart skips a beat.  She didn’t lose everything.

She looks around the large open space.  “Where are all your soldiers?”

“At the forward camp, or fighting.  We are on our own, for now.”  Cassandra motions to the path.  “We should get moving.”

“Right.”  Shea picks up the pace now.  Knowing that good men and women are fighting some ungodly creatures while she takes a winter stroll lights a fire under her.  They continue along the path.  Shea sees patches of elfroot littering the ground.  She quickly runs and gathers as many as she can. 

“What are you doing?”

“This is elfroot.  I have a basic understanding of medicine, but if people are hurt, they going to need this stuff.”  At that, Cassandra joins her.  They quickly gather a couple of handfuls and stuff them in pouches.  Once the top of the hill, Cassandra spots more monsters.  “More shades!  There!  Watch out!”  She draws her weapons.  “If we flank them, we may gain an advantage.”

Shea smiles, draws her found sword, and charges beside her.  In no time at all, the shades are downed.  They continue jogging up the hill, fighting more demons along the way.  Cassandra points of a spectral green thing, “That’s a wraith.  They attack from a distance.”  She nods.

As they travel, she notices something about these demons.  She looks up at it.  “Cassandra, they are falling from the breach!” 

Cassandra follows her gaze and sees a glowing rock fall from the breach.  When it strikes the ground, a shade rises from the green pool of light.  “We should hurry then.”  They run up a staircase built into the rock.  “We’re getting close to the rift.  You can hear the fighting.”

“Who’s fighting?”

“You’ll see soon.  We must help them.”

They vault over a broken stone wall and see that demons are swarming a group of soldiers.  Without skipping a beat, her sword is out and she charges.  Cassandra right behind her.  She doesn’t pay much mind to those fighting beside her, until the demon in front of her freezes solid and shatters.  A mage.  He hasn’t tried to kill her yet.  She pushes her fear aside and continues to fight.  Once the battle is over, she is standing next to him.  She feels slight panic rise in her and their eyes meet.  He’s a bald, elf with sharp features.  She makes a note that he has no face tattoos.  “ _Not Dalish then_.” 

“Quickly, before more come through!”  He forcefully grabs her marked hand and points it at the rift.

It flares painfully as green lightning shots from it into the rift.  With a jolt, her hand is knocked away and the rift is closed.  She holds her hand to her chest.  “What did you do?”

“ _I_ did nothing.  The credit is yours.”

She looks at him with a confused expression on her face.  She looks down at her glowing hand.  “I closed that thing?  How?”

He leans on his staff while he watches her, trying to gauge her reaction.  “Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake and it seems I was correct.”

Cassandra comes to stand by them.  “Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.”

The elf responds, “Possibly.”  He turns his gaze back on Shea, “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

From behind her, she hears someone say, “Good to know! Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.”  She turns and sees a dwarf, cleaning a crossbow, and showing almost every inch of chest hair he had.  “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.”  He then winks at Cassandra who scowls at him. 

 _“Oh, I’m going to like him.”_   She nods to him.  “It’s good to meet you, Varric.”

The elf chuckles, “You may reconsider that stance, in time.”

Varric acts as if his heart has been wounded, “Aww.  I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Solas.”

Cassandra snaps at the dwarf, “Absolutely not. Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…”

Varric slings his crossbow onto his back, “Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.”  Cassandra grumbles something hateful under her breathe, she knows he is right.

The elf steps closer to Shea, “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I’m pleased to see you still live.”

“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept,” provides Varric.

She looks into Solas’s eyes.  They are wise and kind.  She suddenly doesn’t fear him.  This stranger just saved her life, even when everyone thought she blew up the conclave.  “Then I owe you my thanks.”

“Thank me if we manage to close the Breach without killing you in the process.”  She shakes her head.  _What a lovely man._   “Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have ever seen.  Your prisoner is no mage. Indeed, I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.”

“Understood.  We must get to the forward camp quickly.”

Varric starts walking, pulling the cross bow from his back.  He pats it and smiles at Shea, “Well, Bianca’s excited.”  She can’t help but laugh.  She really likes this dwarf.

Cassandra points to another broken wall, “This way, down the bank.  The road is blocked.”  Solas adds that they should move quickly.

“I’ll take point.  Though I don’t know the way.  I could try to… I don’t know… use this thing to close them faster?” 

Solas nods.  “That could work.  In fact, while the demons are in our world, using your mark on a rift might stun them.”

“Then that settles it.  I’m going first.  If I start going the wrong way, just say something.”  Shea gracefully leaps over the wall and follows the snowy path laid before her.  As they head down that path, Shea feels the mark twitch.  Not a full flare up, more like a warning.  As she wonders what it could mean, Solas shouts, “Demons ahead!” 

Varric scoffs, “Glad you brought me now, Seeker?”

After killing this group of demons, the mark calms down.  “Huh.”

Cassandra looks around, “What is it?!”

“Huh?  Oh!  Nothing.  Sorry.  It was something I noticed about the mark.”

Solas’s interest is peaked, “Oh?”

“Well, before while coming down the path, after closing the rift, it sort of… twitched?  It didn’t hurt like before, just tickled a bit.  That’s when you called out about demons and I just put two and two together.”

“That’s a good observation.  We’ll have to test that as we keep moving.”  He motions towards the path.

Shea leads the way keeping a decent pace.  She doesn’t want to move too quickly, Varric’s legs are much shorter than hers.  She’d never say that, but she wants it to be easy for him to keep up.  Every so often she’ll look back over her shoulder just to make sure he’s still there.  Of the people here, he is by far her favorite, and she would hate to lose him.  As if on cue, “So, I take it you’re from the Free Marches?”

She chuckles, “Oh?” 

Varric grins, “Accent.  I’m from Kirkwall, but you’re from… further east, maybe?”

“That’s quite the ear you have.”

“I’m all kinds of impressive.”  Shea laughs.  That sly dwarf is flirting in the middle of a battle field.  He has best friend material written all over him.  Cassandra obviously catches it too as she hears her snort from behind her.

The Breach and mark flare up at the same time.  Shea breathes in sharply and shakes her hand.  Varric puts a hand on her back, “Shit, are you alright?” She makes a tight fist a few times and the mark eventually calms.  She nods and starts back up the path.  After a few moments, Varric obviously can’t hold it in any longer.  “So… are you innocent?”

They climb a wide set of stairs a few steps before she answers, “Honestly, I don’t remember what happened.”

He chuckles, “That’ll get you every time.  Should have spun a story.”

Cassandra scoffs, “That’s what _you_ would have done.”

Varric shrugs, “It’s more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution.”

Shea turns to look at him, “True, but you’ll come to find out, I’m a horrible liar.”  The mark twitches again.  “If we live long enough.”  She leads them up the winding, narrow, stone staircase.  “The mark is twitching, by the way.  Better prepare for demons.”  Sure enough, a group of demons is gathered at the top of the stairs and they dispatch them quickly.

Solas says, “It seems you were correct.  The mark did warn you.  Interesting.”

As Cassandra catches her breath from the battle, she expresses her concern for Leliana.  Varric assures her that she is resourceful.  Solas points out that they will soon find out as they are almost to the forward camp.

“Better get a move on then,” Shea turns and continues further up the path.  As they are cresting yet another hill, the mark sparks and flares slightly, causing a small amount of pain.  Shea ignores the pain and presses on ward.  Cassandra sees the rift first.  A soldier cries out for help and they fight more demons. 

Solas points to the rift, “We must seal it, quickly!” As soon as the demons are defeated, he shouts, “Hurry!  Use the mark!”  Shea takes her a deep breath and holds her hand open wide, palm out.  Again the green lightning shoots from the mark and the rift closes.  Once it is closed, Cassandra issues an order to open the gate.  Solas nods to Shea, “We are clear for the moment.  Well done.” 

Varric shrugs, “Whatever that thing on your hand is, it’s useful.”  The group passes through gate.  Shea tries to ignore the bodies she sees.  She still has a nagging desire to find her uncle.  The camp is sprinkled with supplies, battered soldiers, and wrapped bodies.  Shea sees Leliana standing with a man dressed in Chantry robes.  They are arguing, loudly.

“We must prepare the soldiers!”

He is sneering at her, “We will do no such thing.”

“The prisoner must get to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It is our only chance!”

“You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility.”

“ _I_ have caused trouble?”

“You, Cassandra, the Most Holy – haven’t you all done enough already?”

“You’re not in command here!”

He throws up his hands, his face red. “Enough! I will not have it!”  Shea and Cassandra approach the table.  He glares at Shea.  “Ah, here they come.”

Leliana lets out a sigh of relief, “You made it.  Chancellor Roderick, this is –“

He angrily cuts her off, “I know who _she_ is.  As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this _criminal_ to Val Royeaux to face execution.”  Shea steps back.  Cassandra glances over at her with reassurance.

She sneers at him, “Order me?  You are a glorified clerk.  A bureaucrat!”

He sneers right back at her, “And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!”

Leliana smirks slightly, “We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know.”

Roderick’s face reddens deeper, “Justinia is dead!  We must elect her replacement, and obey _her_ orders on the matter.”

This guy really pisses her off.  She can’t hold her tongue any longer, “Isn’t closing the Breach the more pressing issue?”

He jabs a finger in her face, “ _You_ brought this on in the first place!”  She opens her mouth to protest but he continues on ignoring her, “Call a retreat, Seeker.  Our position here is hopeless.”

Cassandra’s eye bore into his, “We can stop this before it’s too late.”

Roderick pinches up his face, “How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.”

“We must go to the temple.  It’s the quickest route.” 

They continue to argue about the best way to get to the Breach.  Shea looks over at Varric.  They make eye contact, she briefly looks at Roderick, and makes an expression at Varric that says, “I’m a baby!  Waaah!” and then rolls her eyes.  Varric covers his mouth with his hand.  Snickering and stifling a laugh.  She smiles.  She hears Roderick continue to whine about all hope being lost while her mocking remains completely unnoticed by the others.  Then the mark and the breach flare and expand.  She inhales sharply looking down at her hand.  They all looked her.

“How do _you_ think we should proceed?”  She is taken back by Cassandra’s question.

“Now, you’re asking what _I_ think?”

Solas smirks, “You have the mark.”

Cassandra nods, “And you are the one we must keep alive.  Since we cannot agree on our own…”

She thinks to herself, _“Shit.  I should have been listening.”_   She rubs her marked hand and remembers what was told to her.  The mark is killing her.  Every time the breach expands, so does the mark.  It’s happening faster and faster.  Faster.  She wants this over with.  The best way to face a problem is head on and to push through it.

“I say we charge.  I won’t survive long enough for your trail.  Whatever happens, happens now.” 

Cassandra starts preparations, “Leliana.  Bring everyone left in the valley.  Everyone.”  She nods and leaves, Cassandra heads for the gate. 

Roderick saddles up to her and sneers, “On your head be the consequences, Seeker.”  Shea really didn’t like that guy.  She is actually a little glad she doesn’t have to serve under him.  Then pain in her heart flares and she is caught off guard by guilt.

 _“You don’t have to serve under him, because you will probably never be a templar.  Because you lived, while they died.”_   Cassandra sees a single tear fall from her eye.  She pats her on the back and breaks her reverence.  She quickly wipes the tear and rushes forward.

As they climb, there are soldiers all over, some wounded, some stunned, some charging ahead.  A Chantry sister is tending to a large number of corpses, some wrapped but most still waiting for their turn.  They pass a group of soldiers preparing for battle and another group of injured people.  They are a mixed group.  Mages, templars, and soldiers all having their wounds tended.  She looks into the faces of the templars as they pass.  She doesn’t know any of them.

They climb another set of stairs and her mark flares.  Solas warns them to be wary as there is another rift nearby.  As they near the open doorway, a large rock falls from the breach.  It hits a soldier and knocks him down the stairs.  Dead.  Shea rushes past him.  As they go through the door, a shade kills another soldier.  Bones are scattered all around the rift.  Countless soldiers killed by the horrors pouring from the rift.

She draws her weapon and sets herself to charge forward when something catches her eye.  A tall man, with swept back blonde hair has already started his charge.  Leading two soldiers into the fray.  He looks vaguely familiar, yet she can’t place him.  As she sees his sword make contact with a demon, she realizes she’s just staring and standing there.  Varric voice breaks the spell, “How many rifts _are_ there?”

Solas, “We must seal it if we are to get past!” 

Cassandra urges her forward, “Quickly, then!”  Shea shakes her head and charges forward.  She plows right into a demon about to attack the man’s back.  She fights to push it away to give her more room to swing.  The demon swings at her and she jumps back.  And is now back to back with this man.  He glances over his shoulder for a moment they make eye contact.  His eyes are the color of warm honey.  It feels as if their eyes are completely locked together.  She briefly sees the scar on above his lip shift upward in a half smile and then they both spin to, literally, fight their demons.  After defeating two waves of demons, Shea closes the rift.  She uses the back of her marked hand to wipe sweat from her brow. 

Solas approaches her, “Sealed, as before.  You are becoming quite proficient at this.” 

Varric also comes to stand next to her, “Let’s hope it works on the big one.”

The handsome man walks up to them, “Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift?  Well done.” 

Cassandra motions to Shea, “Do not congratulate me, Commander.  This is the prisoner’s doing.”  His attention moves to her and their eyes lock again.  Shea can feel her face turning red and hopes that everyone will think it’s just from all the fighting.

He smiles that same half smirk, “Is it?  I hope they’re right about you.  We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.” 

Shea’s guilt returns.  More people dead.  She drops her eyes to her palm.  “You’re not the only one hoping that.” 

In a soft voice, he replies, “We’ll see soon enough, won’t we.”  The commander returns his attention to Cassandra, “The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there.”

She nods, “Then we’d best move quickly.  Give us time, Commander.”

During this exchange, Solas has leaned closer to Shea.  “If you would like to talk about… all of this… I am here to listen.” 

She nods, shaking herself free of guilt’s hold.  “Thank you, Solas.”  She looks up to see the commander is staring at her.  Their eyes met again.  She sees a hint of red appear in his cheeks. 

He takes a breath and says, “Maker watch over you… for all out sakes.”  It felt like it was directed at her, but that couldn’t be.  That had to have been for everyone.  Right?

The commander turns to leave, helping a wounded soldier as he goes.  Shea suppresses the girlish giggle she can feel bubbling to the surface as they turn for the temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments! I heart feedback!
> 
> UPDATE: July 19, 2018  
> Reading for errors and review to get back into part two.


	4. A Certain Shade of Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** you know what this means lol

Cullen has been fighting nonstop since the Breach exploded into the sky.  He and his men didn’t wait for orders or anyone’s approval.  People needed help and he wanted to make sure that if he found any survivors, that he could get them the care they needed and fast.  Yet looking at the destruction and the newly formed hole in the sky, he didn’t know how anyone could have survived.  He was determined to try at the very least.

He didn’t expect demons.  Why is it always demons?  He shouted instructions to his men and they pressed on.  Some falling to the monsters.  He pressed on though.  The more demons he killed here, the fewer there would be to attack the village.  It is a constant battle.  He started a rotation.  After a wave was defeated, he’d switch the men out for others.  Inspiring them to fight hard by never leaving the field himself.

As his strength and concentration started to waver, he saw Cassandra enter the field with Solas, Varric, and an unknown women.  He didn’t pay them much mind as he charged into the fresh wave of demons.  Throwing everything he had at them.  He was focused.  Then something bumped roughly into his back. Thinking it was another demon, he turned to check, ready to strike.  Their eyes met.  Her sparkling blue eyes staring directly into his.  Her face is beautiful.  Her auburn hair done up in braids with strands cascading around her flawless face from the effort.  He couldn’t help the small smile that broke out over his face.  Both of them breaking their hold on each other to resume the battle.

She fought well.  The swings of her sword, gigantic in comparison to her small frame, were made with purpose.  She never missed.  How was he able to focus on her and the demons he hit at the same time?  Just as he thinks that, a demon takes a swipe at him, narrowly missing his face.  His full attention is back on the battle. 

As the last demon falls, he sees magic shoot from her hand and the rift closes.  _Is she a mage?_ She fights with a sword.  He doesn’t recall seeing her cast any spells during the fight.  He sheaths his sword and places his shield on his back.  He jogs over to Cassandra, “Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift?  Well done.” 

Cassandra motions to the woman.  “Do not congratulate me, Commander.  This is the prisoner’s doing.”  _This is the prisoner?  Is she guilty?  If so, why is she helping?_   His attention moves to her and their eyes lock again.  He notices a blush rise on her cheeks.  He can’t help but smile at her again. 

“Is it?  I hope they’re right about you.  We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.”  He watches some emotion quickly enter her eyes as she breaks their stare to look at the ground. 

What has he said?  Part of him wants to close the distance between them, to apologize for whatever he has said.  She is looking at the glowing green mark on her hand when she says, “You’re not the only one hoping that.” 

In a soft, apologetic voice, he says, “We’ll see soon enough, won’t we.”  That didn’t exactly come out how he wanted but it is done.  He returns his attention to Cassandra, “The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there.”

She nods, “Then we’d best move quickly.  Give us time, Commander.”  His eyes drift back to the prisoner.

Solas is saying something to her.  It seems to make her feel better.  She raises her head and catches him staring.  He feels the warmth rise in his face.  So, before she can notice he takes a breath, “Maker watch over you… for all our sakes.”  While technically he meant that for everyone, it is directed at her.  He turns on his heal and rushes to help a soldier who is struggling to walk.  And as he reaches the doorway, he looks over his shoulder to see them rushing toward the breach.

He helps the soldier to the healer a little ways away.  After making sure everyone is ok, he takes a few drinks of water.  He cleans his face and splashes some of the cool water on his neck before turning back to the temple.  A solider stops him, “Commander?  Are you headed back in?”

“Uh, yes.  I wanted to make sure they didn’t need reinforcements.”  A lie, but only sort of.  It is true, but not his main purpose. 

“Then a few of us would like to join you, ser.”  He nods and a handful of men grab swords.  They follow him back in towards the temple.  Cullen in exhausted, as are his men, so he makes the choice to go slowly.  Making sure there aren’t any demonic stragglers hanging around.

***

Cassandra moves to the front of the group as they grow closer to the temple ruins with Shea right behind her.  She is trying to focus on her surroundings and the mark is not helping.  It is periodically shooting pain up her arm and her hand burned.  It is reacting to something.  The pain isn’t as bad as a full flare up, but it nagged at her.  Solas notices that the glow is constant.  “Is it causing you pain?”

She meets the elf’s eyes over her shoulder.  “Nothing severe.  But it hasn’t stopped since we started this way.”

“Perhaps it’s the Breach.  Your mark may be reacting to the proximity.”

“Well, I wish it would calm down.  It’s making it hard to focus.”

“Maybe I could help with that.  Seeker, may we stop a moment?”

Cassandra looks back with worry in her eyes, “Are you alright?  Is the mark troubling you?”

Before she can answer, she feels Solas’s cool fingers pushing up her sleeve.  “I can’t stop it, of course.  But maybe I can block some of the pain, at least temporarily.”  He holds her glowing hand in his and places another on the middle of her forearm.  Shea is suddenly very nervous.  Despite being in a few battles with mages, and now demons, she had even been directly hit or effected by magic.   Solas feels her pulse quicken under his touch.  He meets her eyes and sees the fear they hold.  “Do not worry.  I will not hurt you.”  She tries to calm herself, but with the mark acting the way it is, she can’t.  She takes a shaky breath in.  Solas is still watching her.  “You must be calm for this to work.”

“I’m sorry.  It’s just… for one, you are the very first mage who hasn’t tried to kill me.  And I feel like I can trust you, but this whole magic thing is foreign to me.  Battling a mage and avoiding being hit is one thing, but this…”

“I don’t have to…”

“No!  If we’re about to fight anything, I will be useless.”  She closes her eyes trying to force down her fear.  Someone grabs her right hand and squeezes.  She looks down to see Varric. 

He shrugs and smiles.  “Can’t hurt right?”  He then looks at Solas, “Right?”

“The spell won’t affect you, child of the stone.”  She inhales and nods for Solas to continue.  Though her pulse is high, she is mostly calm.  “This will be cold.  But it will wear off and if you are uncomfortable, it can be removed.  Ready?”

She nods again.  She is afraid to speak for fear that her voice will betray her internal terror.  Solas focuses his magic to the spot where his hand meets her forearm.  His already cool fingers turn to ice on her arm and she fights the urge to shake him off.  Closing her eyes tight and locking every muscle she can control.  He’s not even finished and she can already feel relief.  The sparks shooting all the way up her arm start to retreat lower down her arm with each burst of cold from Solas’s hand.  She feels her body relax as the pain fades.  Her hand still burns, but the shooting pains are gone.  She breathes as deep as she can and lets it out in a sigh.  She feels Varric gently squeeze her hand and release it.

She feels Solas run his hand around her forearm and her curiousity gets the better of her.  She opens her eyes to see that his magic has placed a light blue, shimmering band around her arm.  It covers the area an inch above the wrist and an inch below her elbow.  The mark is glowing as it has been, it being unaffected by the spell, and she is now freezing.  She was already cold, but now she feels like she just took a swim in the frozen river.

“Is it working?”

“Yes.  Thank you, Solas.  How long will it last?”

“I can’t give you an exact amount of time.  Your attempt to seal the Breach will more than likely break its hold.  However, you should be able to swing your sword without effecting it.”

Cassandra turns back to the path, “We should get moving.”  Shea pushes her sleeve back down, her fingers brushing against her frozen band.  It feels exactly like the rough surface of frozen metal.  She wonders if maybe she could use her hardened forearm to block an attack, but quickly throws the idea away.  She didn’t want to risk breaking the spell before they could deal with the Breach.

They reach the outer wall of what used to be the temple.  It is charred and broken, so very different from the shining beacon of hope she saw on her way in.

Solas announces their arrival, “The Temple of Sacred Ashes.”

To which Varric replies, “What’s left of it.”

They walk a little more along the outside of the ruin.  They reach an obliterated doorway and Cassandra points.  “That is where you walked out the Fade and our soldiers found you. They said a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.”

They pass through the door and stop.  They are surrounded by a scene from a nightmare.  Charred bodies, some still burning, are everywhere.  Some of them look as if they were mid-scream as they died.  They carefully make their way through the bodies.  They approach a now exposed hallway.  Shea stops.  Her heart jumps into her throat.  On the ground before them is the body of a relatively intact Templar in full armor.  Shea drops to her knees next to it.  Varric moves to stop her, but Cassandra stops him.

She can tell the templar is dead.  There’s a lot of blood around him and his neck is twisted in a nauseating manor.  She places her hands underneath his body and attempts to roll him over.  She feels Cassandra kneel beside her, “Are you sure you want to know?”

“I… yes.  I think the not knowing would hurt more in the long run.”

“Then let me help you.”  Cassandra helps her gently turn the templar over.  The face guard on his helmet is down.  She slowly extends her hand to lift the visor.  She inhales sharply and bends done to rest her forehead of the templar’s chest.  They others just watch in silence.

Cassandra places her hand lightly on Shea’s back.  “Is that… who you’ve been looking for?”

Sobs break out of Shea’s mouth.  She can’t stop them.  She wails loudly.  Varric rubs the back of his neck, “Well… shit.”  Cassandra rubs her back and is never surer of her innocence.  Shea clutches her glowing hand to her heart, now a reminder, that she is somehow involved in his death.  Determination and anger quickly replaces her grief and her sobs stop.

She sits up and places her right hand on his chest.  “I’m so sorry, uncle.”  She reaches up and closes the visor.  “Go with the Maker.”  She slowly stands.  Cassandra quickly helps her up.  Shea places her hand on Cassandra’s arm to steady herself.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what was his name?”

Shea looks over at Cassandra, tears still streaming down her face.  “Knight-Captain Hayden Trevelyan.  My uncle.”

Varric has heard that last name before, “I know that name.  Well, the family name anyway.  You’re from Ostwick?”

She nods.  “Born and raised.”  She wipes the tears from her face with the back of her sleeve. “He’d be furious if I just stood here, crying like a baby.  Let’s close this Breach.”

She leads the way.  They pass more burning bodies as they enter the main part of the temple.  Varric whistles, “The breach _is_ a long way up.”

The sound of running footsteps makes then all snap their attention behind them.  It’s Leliana which a hand full of scouts and archers.  “You’re here!  Thank the Maker!”  Cassandra starts issuing orders.  She instructs Leliana to position her men around the temple.  Leliana nods and walks back to her men to give directions.  Shea is staring at the Breach, opening and closing marked hand.  Cassandra comes to stand beside her, “This is your chance to end this.  Are you ready?”

Shea takes a steadying breath, “I’ll try, but I don’t know if I can reach that, much less close it.”

Solas points to a crystalized, green glowing cluster. “No.  This rift was the first and is the key.  Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach.”

Cassandra nods, “Then let’s find a way down.  And be careful.”  Leliana joins up with them as they pick their way along the edges of the temple, looking for a safe way to the ground.  As they get closer, an ominous, booming voice is heard.

“Now is the hour of our victory.  Bring forth the sacrifice.”

They freeze.  Cassandra is the first to break the silence, she looks over to Solas, “What are we hearing?”

“At a guess: The person who created the Breach.”

They continue on.  After a few more feet, Varric rushes to the front of the group to stop them.  He points to some spiky, glowing red rocks sticking out of the ground.  “You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker.”

“I see it, Varric.”

“But what’s it _doing_ here?”

Solas looks at it for a moment, “Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it…”

“It’s evil.  Whatever you do don’t touch it.” 

Shea’s memory flashes the image of Knight-Commander Meredith, frozen into a red lyrium statue in the Gallows of Kirkwall.  The thought sends chills up her spine.  She leads the group in a wide berth around it.  That last thing anyone needs to do is touch that stuff.

Once they are clear of the red lyrium, the ominous voice is heard again, “Keep the sacrifice still.” 

A woman’s voice is heard shortly afterward, “Someone help me!” 

Cassandra gasps, “That is Divine Justinia’s voice!”  They don’t let the voices stop them, however, and eventually find a small drop off onto the ground near the rift.  The mark flares and Shea hisses in pain.  The magic band is holding, but didn’t fully stop the pain from shooting up her arm.  Her head starts to hurt as more voices are heard.

“Someone help me!”

“What’s going on here?”

They all look at Shea when Cassandra says, “That was your voice.  Most Holy called out to you.  But…”  Shea drops to hear knees.  Her head feels like it is splitting open.  A white flash of light temporarily blinds everyone.  Then all they can see is a ghostly memory.

Divine Justinia is being held by a red energy.  It is wrapped tightly around her arms, holding them straight out and elevating her from the ground.  A large dark figure with glowing red eyes, looms over her.  Shea bursts into the room, “What’s going on here?”

Justinia looks at her with panic, “Run while you can!  Warn them!”

The large figure turns his gaze on Shea, “We have an intruder.  Kill her.  Now.”

Another flash of white light returns their sight and releases the pain from Shea’s head.  Cassandra rushes to her and forcefully makes her stand.  “You _were_ there!  Who attacked?  And the Divine, is she…?  Was this vision true?  What are we seeing?” 

Shea shoves Cassandra off of her, “I don’t remember!” 

Solas steps between them, “Echoes of what happened here.  The Fade bleeds in this place.  This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily.  I believe with mark, the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.”

Cassandra draws her sword, “That means demons.  Stand ready!”  The soldiers draw their swords and the archers around the perimeter ready their arrows.  Shea draws her sword and positions herself in front of the rift.  Her marked hand twitches as if ready.  When Cassandra gives the signal, Shea raises her hand to the rift.  The green lightning connects and the rift bursts open.  A gigantic demon appears.  It is huge!  It towers over them all.  As Cassandra’s blade makes contact, she shots, “We must strip its defenses!  Wear it down!  Quickly!  Disrupt the rift!”

Shea turns from the battle back to the rift and raises her hand.  Green lightning pours into the large rift and releases with a crack.  The demon is stunned, “The demon is vulnerable!  Now!”  Shea rubs her forearm, the magic is starting to fade.  As she charges forward, more demons poor out of the rift, blocking her path to the rest of the group.  Cassandra disengages with the big demon and goes to help Shea, “More coming through the rift!”

It’s a hard battle.  The sound and feel of cracking ice is making Shea sluggish.  The mark is flaring and pulsing.  She is starting to feel light headed.  If the demons aren’t killed now, she won’t make it long enough to seal it.  Reluctant to let that happen she retreats slightly, to lean against a fallen statue of Andraste.  She watches as the rest of her team defeat the demons, Cassandra spins to face her, “Now! Seal the rift!”  Shea stands and stumbles to the rift.  “Do it!”

She lifts her hand, Solas’s magic band shatters as the mark arcs to the rift.  This one is taking more energy to than the ones before.  She braces herself and pressed more of her energy through the mark.  The mark responds by increasing the intensity of the arc.  With a concussive burst, the rift closes, sending a bright ripple to towards the sky.  Shea’s knees buckle and the world goes black.

Before anyone can react and before Shea can hit the ground, the Commander runs full speed and slides to catch her.  Cassandra rushes to them.  “Commander?  When did you…”

He is on his knees, the prisoner in his arms.  She looks pale and clammy.  He quickly uses his teeth to remove one of his gloves and presses his fingers against her throat.  He sighs with relief.  “She’s alive, but barely.”

“But when did you get here?”

He gently repositions her in his arms.  She is surprisingly light.  He slowly stands.  “With the field of battle clear, I decided to bring a few men here in case you needed reinforcements.  We arrived as the second wave hit.”  He looks down at her in his arms.  She looks so small.  So much smaller than before.  Her head lulls over his arm and his holds her closer to him.

Solas runs over, his hands already glowing with magic.  He grabs her dangling marked hand, still glowing, but not as brightly.  “The mark appears to be stable.”

Cassandra asks, “What does that mean?  Will she live?”

Solas nods, “It has stopped growing.  Stabilizing the Breach must have stabilized her mark.  Yet, she is weak.  The amount of energy it took to close it has taken its toll.  We need to get her to Haven quickly, if we are to save her.”

“Then let’s go.”  Solas tucks her marked hand against her body.  Cullen tightens his grip on her.  “We may encounter more demons along the way.  Cassandra, Solas, and Varric.  Go ahead of me.  I won’t be able to fight, if we are attacked.  Keep them off us.”  They nod.  “Once the path is level, or at least provides little risk of falling, we’ll pick up the pace.”

Cassandra takes point while Varric and Solas stand next to Cullen.  Exiting the pit that is the temple ruins is difficult.  There are no stairs and Cullen is reluctant to release her.  He looks down at her again.  He doesn’t even know her name.  He gently sets her on ledge of the way he dropped down and climbs up next to her.  Cassandra offers her hand, he takes it, and she helps him up.  Once everyone has climbed out of the pit, Cullen bends down and gently picks her up. 

They walk out of the temple.  Upon seeing Shea’s uncle again, Cassandra turns to the rest.  “Hold a moment.”  She goes over to a group of soldiers, gives them some hushed instructions, they salute, arms across their chests, and leave.  She rejoins the group.  Cullen asks, “What was that about?”

“That templar is her uncle.  When she wakes, she will want to help send him back to her family, then he may join the Maker at his side.”

Cullen looks back to the templar.  “You’re probably right.”  He feels her shiver in his arm.  “Solas.  Would you feel her forehead?”

“Certainly.”  Solas presses his hand to her forehead.  “A fever is setting in.  We must hurry.” 

Solas turns to leave but Cullen stops him, “Wait.  Take my mantle.  Wrap it around her.”  Solas does as instructed and they hurry back to Haven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading!
> 
> UPDATE: July 19,2018  
> Proofing and review for future writing.


	5. Medicine Man

Breathing heavily, Cullen rushes through the Chantry doors.  Adan, a grumpy, alchemist, is waiting for him.  “This way.  We have an area set up for her.”  He follows him into the room and sets her gently on the bed.  Adan hands him the fur lined mantle and motions for him to back away.  He stands in the doorway and watches Adan work.  He checks her pulse and fells he forehead.  He grabs a wet cloth and places it on her clammy forehead.

Cullen can’t take the silence, “Will she live?” 

Adan stands abruptly and drives him from the room.  “I will keep you posted.”  He slams the door in the commander’s face.  It opens again just as quickly, “The scar on her hand is glowing, should I be concerned?”

“I’m not sure.” 

Adan huffs, “Then get me someone who does.”  He slams the door again.  Cullen stands stunned for a few seconds.  “ _How is that man a healer?  His patients must hate him.”_   He looks down at the cloth in his hands.  He puts it back on and goes to find Solas.  Before he can even leave the Chantry, Cassandra stops him.

“How is she?”

“Too soon to tell.”

“Well, what did the healer say?”

Cullen rubs the back of his neck.  “I don’t… he kicked me out.  Are we sure he’s qualified?”

“Maker help her.  There are reports pouring in of Fade rifts all over Thedas.  We need her to help close them.”

He sighs, “What kind of mess did we get ourselves into?”

“I have no idea.”

Cullen rests his hand on the hilt of his sword and shakes his head.  “Do you happen to know where Solas is?  The healer needs him.”

“He has taken the cabin near Adan’s.  On that little hill.”

He nods and goes to leave.  Cassandra stops him.  “You know what we must do next, yes?”

“Yes.  They aren’t going to be happy about it.”

Cassandra chuckles, “Are they ever happy about anything?”

“True.  It must get…”

“Go.”

Cullen walks out of the Chantry and looks up at the sky.  The Breach is still there, but nothing is falling from it anymore.  If they have any hope of closing it fully, they will need help.  He groans.  That means mages or templars.  He shakes his head to clear his thoughts.  Focus, one step at a time.

He knocks on the door of the cabin Cassandra indicated.  Solas answers the door, “How may I help you, Commander?”

“The healer, Adan, he says he needs someone who knows anything about the mark.”

“Oh, Adan isn’t a healer, just an alchemist.  The town’s healer died in the explosion.  He’s doing what he can though.”

“At least we have someone.”

“Indeed.  I’ll go to him right away.”  Solas steps out his cabin, closing the door behind him.  “Are you alright, Commander?”

Cullen and Solas start walking back to the Chantry.  “Yes.  Just worried about the prisoner.”

“Is she still your prisoner then?  After everything that’s happened, are you still unsure of her innocence?”

Cullen shrugs, “It’s not my place to make those decision.  From what I witnessed, she is more than willing to help.  Throwing herself into battle without hesitation.  I also doubt she would do this to herself, much less her own family.”

“True enough.  Tell me, Commander.  In your years as a templar, have you ever encountered someone who showed no signs of magical ability wield such power?”

He pauses to think.  “No.  I’ve never even seen a mage do the things she is able to do.”

“I happen to agree with you there.  I am honestly surprised that she has survived this long with the mark.  Maybe there is hope for us yet.”

“Maker willing.”  Cullen stops.  “I’ll leave you to it.  I must check on my men.  They have had a rough couple of days, to say the least.”

Solas nods his head to Cullen, “Commander.”  He exits into the Chantry.  Cullen sees that someone has set up and fire in the courtyard, complete with benches.  He sits down and presses on the bridge of his nose.  Now that he has a moment to breathe, his headache is returning to him.  He sits there pressing on his forehead and warming himself by the fire, trying to rid his mind of the horrors he witnessed today.  Then her face enters his mind.  The first time he saw it.  Sword in hand, back pressed against his.  Her bright, ocean blue eyes shining back at him.  The sweat and redness on her face from fighting.  Her long dark flashes fluttering as her blinked.  Her wisps of her auburn hair as it caught in the wind.

He quickly clasps his gloved hands together and begins to pray.  _“Maker.  Let her live.  We still need her to save this world.  I… I don’t even know her name.  She is important.  Let her stay here a little longer.”_   The snow crunches beside him.  He opens his eyes, looks up, and see that Leliana is watching him.

“You look stressed.”

“Nothing gets past you, Lady Nightingale.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Please.”  She sits next to him. They are quiet for some time.  He sighs.  “Ask me if you’re going to.”

She smiles, “How do you know I was going to ask you something?” 

He shoots her his crooked half smile.  “Because I know you.  And you know me.  You are always there the exact moment something happens that I need to talk about.”

“And has it?”

“Aside from the events of the past few days?”  He sighs, “I saw you watching me at the temple ruins.”

“Was I?”

“Don’t play coy, Leliana.  Of course you were.  The day you stop watching everyone around you, is the day the Maker takes you.  And even then you’ll still have a whole network of people doing that for you.”

“And what do you think I saw?”  She smiles at him and he turns beat red, casting his eyes back to the fire.  “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.  For what it’s worth, she was watching you too.”  She stands and walks back to her tent.  He sits staring at the flames in stunned silence.  She was watching him too?  He smiles to himself.  He stands and heads for the training grounds.  He really should do his job.  With luck, she’ll be awake when her returns.

Night falls on Haven.  The light emanating from the breach drives away any stars in the sky.  The clouds swirl in anger as their unwelcome guest moves them.  It’s the coldest night they’ve had since arriving.  As a man from Ferelden, he can feel that winter is setting in, in earnest.  Sleeping in a tent will be difficult, but if his men can do it, so can he.  His is reading some reports while have a quick bite, when a scout enters his tent.

“Commander.  I have a report for you.”

Cullen gives the man his attention.  “Is that Cassandra’s report from the temple?  Or is it a scout report?”  The scout holds out the report.  It’s the shortest report Cullen has ever seen.  “Who wrote this?”

“Alchemist Adan.  It’s about the Herald, ser.”

Looks starts to read the report, but stops.  “What did you just say?”

“Alchemist Adan sent the report, ser.”

“No, after that.”

“It’s about the Herald.”

“The Herald?”

He nods, “Yes, ser.” 

Cullen stands slowly.  “Who is the Herald?” 

The scout backs away nervously.  “ _The_ Herald of Andraste.” 

Cullen sets the report down and approaches the scout.  He gently places a hand on each of his shoulders.  “Calm yourself.  And start over.  Who is this report about?”

“The Herald of Andraste.  She was hurt while closing the Breach, I understand.”  Cullen removes his hands and paces his tent.

“The Herald of Andraste… closed the Breach?”

“Yes, ser.  At least, that’s what I hear.”

“What else do you hear?”

Scout suddenly becomes very animated.  “The Herald was sent by Andraste from the Fade, ser!  Sent to save us from the Breach and the demons!  Andraste herself sent her to us when the Divine died.”  Cullen sits at his desk.

“Who is calling her this?”

“Everyone, ser.  We saw the shining light hit the Breach and felt the shockwave as it closed.  We all believe that Andraste was the woman behind her when she was delivered from the Fade!”

“Thank you.  That’ll be all.”  Scout salutes and rushes from the tent.

He is stunned.  “ _Could it be true?  Could the prisoner be sent by Andraste?”_   The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to believe it.  His eyes drift to the new report on his desk.  He picks it up and reads eagerly.

_Patient Observations – Day 1_

_The patient is clammy with shallow breathing.  When she arrived, her pulse was faint.  After the fever broke, her pulse became over-fast.  She remains unresponsive.  Her pupils are dilated._

_The mage says her glowing scar, or “mark” as he calls it, is pulsing with some unknown magic._

_Wish we could get a templar stationed in here, just in case._

_-Adan_

Cullen shoves the report in his pocket, pulls his mantle tighter, and rushes toward the Chantry.  “ _They want a templar?  They’ve got one.”_   He has to make a stop first.  He gets the attention of two scouts.  “Where are Sister Leliana and Seeker Cassandra?”

“I believe they are resting in their rooms, ser.”

“Get them.  Now.  Tell them to meet me in the war room.”  They salute and run to deliver the message.  Cullen continues to the Chantry.  He has purpose in his steps.  People who are still milling about, move out of his way as he approaches.  He throws open the Chantry doors and doesn’t stop to close them.  He doesn’t even pause as he barges into her sick room.  An elf jumps up and nearly screams.  “Oh.  Commander.  You startled me.”

“How is the patient?”

“Master Adan says he thinks she’ll recover.  But she is not out of the woods yet.”

“Good.  Have him keep me updated, if anything chances.”  He turns to leave, then turns back.  “Oh, and please tell Master Adan, that we may not have any templars available, but a former templar will be stationed here, if that makes him feel better.”

“Yes, ser.  That’s why he isn’t here, ser.  The Herald’s mark makes him nervous.”

Hearing someone else say that she’s the Herald, an elf no less, only makes his attempt at believing take root even more.  “Quite.  Thank you for looking after her.”

“Oh!  It’s my honor, ser!”  Cullen leaves closing the door gently behind him.  As he continues his purposeful walk to the war room, he smiles to himself.  He didn’t look at her once.  He may have lost his nerve for what he was promising to do, demanding that he do, if he had seen her.

When Leliana and Cassandra enter, a dark haired, tanned woman enters behind them.  She is carrying a board with a candle and paper on it.  He curses himself silently.  He forgot about Josephine.  She doesn’t look annoyed though.  He would have to thank the scouts later for correcting his error.  Josephine gently closes the large door before taking her place.  Cassandra looks beyond pissed.  “This better be good, Commander.  I was sleeping.”

“I apologize for waking you.  I just received a report about the Herald’s condition.  I thought you would all want to be updated right away.”  They stare at him in silence.  “Oh, so you didn’t know.  Wow.  I’m the first to know something for a change.  That’s the real reason I called you in here.  It seems the people of Haven, and who knows how far this goes, have started calling the prisoner… calling her the Herald of Andraste.”

No one can say a word.  Cullen has blindsided them.  He is trying not to let this victory go to his head.  He can’t stop a half smile from crossing his face and the women stare at him.  Cassandra is the first to speak, “The Herald of Andraste?  How is that possible?”

“According to the scout I heard this from originally, the people believe that Andraste herself delivered her from the Fade.” 

Leliana slowly walks to a stack or reports on the war table.  She flips through them until she finds the one she’s looking for.  “It says the same thing here.  Apparently, word has spread quickly of Lady Trevelyan’s actions since the conclave.  It says here that those who witnessed the explosion at the conclave, who saw the Breach form, and then watched as she closed it, think it must mean that the woman behind her in the Fade had to be Andraste.”

It took him a moment to answer.  She had a name.  Well, a last name.  A name anyone who has ever been a templar would recognize.  “The Herald is a Trevelyan?”

“You didn’t know?”

“When we met, we didn’t exactly have time to exchange greetings.  So, no.  I do recognize the name though.  I’ve met quite a few Trevelyans in my life.  The most notable being Knight-Captain Hayden Trevelyan from Ostwick.  He helped me organize Kirkwall as best we could when I became Knight-Commander.  I hear he was one of those to perish at the conclave.”

Cassandra can’t help but remember when Shea found her uncle, “Yes, he did.  He was also her uncle.”

“That’s the body she found in the temple?  Maker.”  Cullen thinks a moment.  “He spoke of her I believe while he was there.  She refused to be left at home while there were people who needed aid.  Or something along those lines.  I don’t recall him ever saying her name though.  Even if he did, it was chaos when I took command.  The only reason I even recall meeting him is because Trevelyans are legends in the Templar Order, at least in the Free Marches.”

Josephine holds up her quill, “I can, in fact, confirm that.  The Trevelyans are a noble house primarily living in Ostwick.  Every 3rd and 4th born child is destined to a life of service in the Chantry.  The boys usually become templars.  I have reports that quite a few of her family were at the conclave.  It is still unclear as to why she was there.  The last report I have states that she was supposed to begin her training in Ostwick’s Chantry some weeks ago.”

Leliana nods, “My reports agree.  Some servants in Bann Trevelyan’s household have stated that their daughter,” she flips through the reports again, “Shea, left with her uncle by horse.  Based on the date, I would say she left Ostwick approximately 2 weeks before the conclave.”

Cassandra puts up her hands.  “I’m tired.  We can discuss her past later.  We need to discuss this Herald of Andraste thing.  Thoughts?”

Cullen is the first to speak up.  “The people seem to believe it.  It seems to give them hope.  Who can even say for sure that whether she is or isn’t?  It’s a nice idea.”

Leliana nods, “I agree.  With the Chantry in shambles, the people need something to cling to.  I will have to decide if I believe it myself, but why stop it for now.”

Cassandra shrugs, “I will also need to think on it.  They say a woman was behind her in the Fade.  It could have been Andraste.”

Josephine jots down a few notes, “Let’s table this for now.  We must all search our souls and decide what we believe.  Is that all?”

Cullen’s eye catches Adan’s report.  “One more thing.  Adan has asked that a templar be stationed in the Herald’s room.  The mark makes him nervous.”

Cassandra waves a hand dismissively at him, “Bah.  It will be fine.  Where would we even find…” 

He cuts her off, “As a former templar, I would be more than willing to assist in this matter.  I have the training.”

Leliana smirks, “I’m sure you are.”  Cassandra looks over at her.  She turns back to him to protest. 

“Seeker, I’ve already told him I would help.  Who can say what someone will try to do?  She is important to our cause and to be completely honest, I’m not sure I would trust anyone else to perform this task.” 

Cassandra yawns covering her mouth.  “Very well, Commander.  Will your men survive without you?”

He smirks, “I think they have earned a small rest.  I apologize again for waking you.”  She waves her hand dismissively and she exits the war room.  Josephine nods to both Leliana and Cullen and exits as well.  Cullen picks up the small report and places it in a pile on the table, he is unaware that Leliana is still standing there.

“You cover your tracks well, Commander.”

He jumps slightly, “Maker’s breath.  I thought you’d left.”

“Most people do.  Do be a gentleman, Commander.  She is unconscious after all.”  She watches as he turns beat red. 

“I… I would never….” 

She giggles loudly, “I was only joking.  You don’t need to be so serious all the time.  Do try to get some sleep tonight.  I know there is an extra bed in the sick room.  I’m sure you could use it.”

“I might at that.  I can’t remember the last time I slept in an actual bed.”  He rubs his neck.

“Good night, Commander.”

“Good night.”  Leliana leaves.  Cullen finishes filing the health report away and leaves the war room, closing the door behind him.  He walks slowly to the sick room and pauses with his hand on the knob.  Something Leliana said finally lands on him. _“Her name is Shea.”_   He smiles and slowly opens the door.  He sees that the elf is still seated next to Shea’s bed and has fallen asleep.  He pats her arm gently and she slowly opens her eyes.  Seeing that it is Cullen who wakes her, she jumps out of the chair.  “I’m sorry, Commander.  I wasn’t sleeping I swear.”

He smiles at her.  “It’s alright.  I’ve come to relieve you.”

“Pardon?  I was expecting a templar, ser.”

“Former templar.  The Herald is important and I will only leave her care to the most trusted.  And until I find a templar to fit the bill then…”

“You don’t need to explain yourself, ser.  I am but a humble servant.  I will inform Master Adan, at once.” 

He stops her.  “Maybe wait until after he wakes up first.”

“Oh.  Yes, ser.  Thank you, ser.”  The elf scurries out of the room.

Cullen does a quick survey of the room.  There is a bed of the opposite wall from her with a window on the wall between them.  A small table with elfroot, a bowl of water with a cloth in it, and some potions sits next to her bed.  He finally allows himself to look at her.  Someone has taken her auburn hair out of their braids so that it is fanned out on the pillow.  Though it looks filthy from the day’s battles, he imagines it would be soft.  Her face and lips are pale.  Her forehead is slick with sweat.  She has blankets pulled up to her chin.

He sits in the chair next to her bed.  He reaches out to feel her forehead, but notices that his hand are still gloved.  He then notices he is still in full armor.  He stands and sees chest at the foot of the other bed.  A chest, he now realizes, he never noticed before.  He shrugs it off as being distracted.  He flings his mantle onto the bed and proceeds to remove his armor.  Not having brought any of his casual belongings with him, he is left to wear the brown padded shirt and pants he wears under his armor, and his boots.  He walks a few steps back towards her bed, and hears his boot click loudly on the floor.  So he takes those off too and places them in the trunk.

With soft socked feet, he sits back in the chair.  He again reaches out to feel her forehead.  She is very warm.  He sees her eyes moving behind her eyelids and knows she is dreaming.  Though with the way she is sweating and speed at which her eyes are moving, he would put money on it being a nightmare.  He grabs the wet cloth out of the bowl and wrings it out.  Then gently wipes the sweat from her face.  He wets the cloth again and wrings it out.  He folds it neatly, then rests it on her forehead.

Her soft breathing is very erratic.  She takes short quick inhales, before letting it out in a quick burst.  The amount of air she puts out isn’t very much either.  He can’t stop himself from placing his hand on her smooth cheek.  She looks pathetic.  So very different from the warrior he saw on the battlefield.

She winces in pain and a flash of green catches his eye.  He carefully pulls back the covers to expose the hand.  He gently picks it up and turns her palm up.  He’s never actually seen the mark before.  He sets her hand down and grabs another cloth.  He wets it and wrings it out.  Picking up her hand again, he uses the cloth to clean around the mark.  It is clear no one has been brave enough to touch it because it is caked in Maker knows what.

As he cleans her hand, he examines the mark.  The light coming from it makes it difficult to make out details, but from what he can tell the mark looks a lot like a deep slice from a dagger.  Yet when he pulls the cloth over the mark, it is smooth.  The texture is different from flesh.  Once her hand is clean, he puts the towel on table, and resumes his study.

He slowly and gently runs his fingers on the inside of her palm.  He does this a few times trying to place the texture.  Suddenly the mark flares, nearly blinding him, and making her groan.  He places his hand over her palm to block to bright light from shinning.  He spots some bandages on the table and decides to wrap her hand.  He couldn’t stop the pain, but he could at least block the light, at least a little bit.

An idea pops into his head.  He nibbles his lip when it does.  Cullen is worried about toying with the mark.  Before he did anything, he’d have to talk to Solas, but this idea might help dull the pain enough for her to recover.  Each time the mark flares, the cold sweat would return and he would refresh the wet cloth.  Eventually, he fells his eye lids grow heavy.  He places her hand back on the bed and covers it back up.  He rises from the chair and goes to the other bed.  Pulling back the covers, he climbs in.  It is extremely comfortable.  Of course, almost anything is more comfort than a cot in a tent.  He then couldn’t remember the last time he had slept at all.  He looks over at her one last time before sleep takes him. 

For the first time, in a long time, his nightmare is different.  There are no mages, no templars, no Circles.  It starts the same as all the rest.  A normal, peaceful day, taking his men through their paces.  Then the ground shakes and a gigantic explosion blows him and his men to the ground.  Sitting up, he sees the Temple of Sacred Ashes explode in green flame.  Sending debris sky high.  Then a massive crack appears in the sky and splits open.  The Breach is formed.  He rushes to his feet and urges his men to do the same.  As everyone around him is running away, he is running towards the destruction.  He never looks behind to see if his men have followed.  He has trained them well and they are loyal.  They’d follow him anywhere.  As they run, some men break off to aid those injured.  Then demons start raining from the sky.  He staggers to a stop and looks around.  He is alone.  The world is dark.  He is surrounded.  He swings his sword in a circle trying to keep the demons at bay.  Chains erupt from the earth and bind him.  He lets loose a roar and tries to break free.  Then demons charge him.  “No!  No!  Not like this!  I will not die like this!”  The demons tear into him.  The flesh being torn from his bones.  He screams in agony.  Then a bright green light brightens the area.  The demons turn to ash.  He is blinded and hurting.  He feels a gentle hand touch his cheek.  He opens his eyes and a pair of sparkling blue eyes lock with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I love hearing for you guys, so keep the comments coming!
> 
> UPDATED July 19, 2018


	6. Witch Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suprise! Two in one day!

Cullen sits bolt upright in bed.  His breathing is heavy.  He wipes the sweat from his brow and covers his face with his hands.  He centers himself.  His demons have more ammunition now.  More things to torture his mind with.  They will feed off this one for a while.  But those eyes…

He uncovers his face and sees that though the nightmare felt short, it is morning.  The sun is starting to come in through the window.  He looks over at Shea.  She has shifted in the middle of the night.  The cloth is on the floor and she is laying on her stomach.  Her hair is everywhere.  He can’t see her face.  He slowly gets out of bed and sits in the chair.  He brushes the hair from her face.  Her mouth hangs opens slightly.  He feels her forehead.  The fever is gone.  He sighs.  Maybe she can rest soundly.

There is a quiet knock at the door before it slowly opens.  Adan enters holding a tray.  “Ah good.  I was hoping I wouldn’t wake you.”  He seemed to be in a fantastic mood.  “How’s the patient this morning?”

“I’m not a healer, but I’d say the fever is officially gone.  She appears to be sleeping more soundly.”

Adan nods, “Good.  Did you bandage the hand?”

“Ah.  Yes.  I cleaned it as well.”  Cullen rises from the chair to let Adan work.  He watches him check her pulse and observe her breathing. 

“Hmm.  Yes, she appears to be out of the woods now.  Do you think that _mark_ is safe?”

“I do.  It flares occasionally, but it’s nothing to worry about.  I bandaged it more for my own eye sight than anything else.  It is very bright if you look directly at it during a flare up.  No harm done though.”

Adan turns to the table and begins crushing elfroot.  “Do you think the flares are causing harm?” 

Cullen shrugs, “They seem to cause her some discomfort.  I planned on discussing that matter with Solas today.”  Adan nods and returns to his work, his talkative mood evaporating.

Cullen goes to the chest and dons his armor.  Once done, he turns to bid Adan farewell, and sees him struggling to turn Shea onto her back.  Without a word, he assists him.  He grunts his thanks.  Cullen shakes his head and leaves to tend to his duties.

When he arrives to the training area, he sees that his men are already there.  The higher ranking officers are putting the men into lines.  More experienced in the front and the new recruits in the back.  Though they took many losses fighting the demons, their numbers have swelled.  A man named Rylen approaches him with a list in hand.  “Commander.  They’ve been arriving all morning.  Some villagers, some pilgrims, some volunteers.  Some of these men were survivors from the conclave.  Low ranking templars mostly.  They were in Haven when the explosion happened.  They are marked on this list.”

Cullen takes the list from him and reviews it.  Rylen is thorough.  Each name on the list has an age, location of birth, and years of experiences.  Those that came from Haven were marked with an “H,” those who came from as pilgrims, a “P,” and finally a “T” for templars.  “Break the men into groups by experience.  I want to talk with these templars before I have them join the rest.  Assign someone that I have already trained to run them through their forms to see where we stand.  I want a full report by lunch.”

Rylen smiles and salutes, “Right away, ser.”

Cullen goes into his tent and sits at his desk.  He is reviewing the list of templars to see if he recognizes any of the names.  He doesn’t.  He’s not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.  “Jim! Get in here!”  The scout that told him about the Herald enters.  “Ser?”

He quickly copies the templar names and information to another piece of paper.  “Take this to Sister Nigh… Leliana.  She’ll know what I want do.”  Jim takes the paper, salutes, and exits.  A few second later Rylen enters.  “Ser.  The templar recruits are ready for inspection.” 

“Thank you, Rylen.”

Cullen stands and exits his tent.  The templars are all lined up outside his tent.  All of them in their armor with helms at their sides.  There are 6 of them.  He goes through his list, putting names to faces.  He decides he wants to interview each one, still uncertain on what he should do with them.  Should he allow templars in the ranks?  He doesn’t see a problem with it, but there are mages around and the last thing he needs is infighting.  He looks around and sees that Cassandra is beating the crap out a training dummy.  Perfect.

He goes over to her, list in hand.  “Seeker, I was wondering if you could help me with something.” 

“Certainly.” 

He sighs, “I might be being overcautious here, but I am trying to vet some new recruits.”

She looks surprised, “Recruits?” 

“Yes, apparently, they’ve been coming in all morning.  I’m having my men look at the ones without formal training now, but that isn’t my concern.”

“Go on.”

He hands her the list, “As you can see, there are 6 templars in the group.  They are all survivors from… that were outside the conclave.  I see no problem with letting them join us, but as a former templar, I might be a little biased on this matter.”  She nods.  “I have Leliana looking into their histories now, but that will take some time.  Time we may not have.”

“I can understand why you have reservations and also why you need them.  They would make excellent trainers for the fresh recruits, yet there are mages here.”

“I knew we’d be on the same page.  What I wanted to know is if you’d help me interview them?  That way we can both be sure their motivations are true.” 

She nods.  “Of course, I will help you.”

“Thank you.”  They return to the line of templars and ask them one by one to enter Cullen’s tent so they can ask some questions.  This takes most of the morning.  They all pass, much to Cullen’s relief.  Rylen enters after Cassandra leaves.  “Ser.  I have good news and bad news.”

“That’s always the way isn’t it.  Go ahead.”

“The good news is that most of the new recruits know which end to hold a sword by.  The bad news is we don’t have enough to arm them.  I’ve talked to Threnn and she’ll see what she can do.  At this point, these men just need to be properly trained.”

“Well at least they know how to grip a sword.  Find Lysette, she’s one of the templars, have her and the others help you train them.  You’ll need to push them hard.  We need them ready.”

“Are you expecting an attack, ser?”

“No.  But it never hurts to be prepared.”  Rylen salutes and exits.  Finally alone, with at least a little quiet, he allows himself to relax some.  He rubs his neck and leans back in his chair.  His mind wanders.  He wonders how Shea is doing.  He thinks back to their first meeting.  Her eyes shining, her cheeks flushed, her skills in battle.

As a small smile breaks across his face, a scout bursts into his tent.  “Pardon me, ser.”

“What is it?”

“There’s been an attempt on the Herald’s life.”

Cullen stands quickly.  “When?”

“Just moments ago, ser.”

“Lead the way.”

Cullen and the scout run through Haven and into the Chantry.  Leliana is waiting for them.  “Report.”

She motions for him to follow.  They go into the sick room.  Shea is still out like a light and Adan is washing his hands calmly in the bowl of water.  Someone in Chantry robes is laying dead on the floor.  Leliana prompts, “Adan?”

He turns to them drying his hands.  “I was changing a few of the patient’s bandages when she entered.  She was carrying some potions claiming that they would help heal the Herald.  When I reached to inspect one of them, she attacked me.  I broke the bottle against her face and she screamed.  It burned her.  It was an acid.  I will analyze it later.  I got a little on my hands, but I knew how to counter it.  The Herald is fine.  Slept through the whole thing.”

“Thank you, Adan.”  Cullen and Leliana leave the room.  “Do we know who sent her?”

“Not yet.  I’ll have my agents identify her and search for her things.  If I had to guess, I would say someone who doesn’t believe she is the Herald.  Another likely choice is someone with connections to the Chantry itself.  I’ll let you know when we know more.”  She nods to a pair of scouts and they go to remove the body.  “I’m glad Adan was in there and knew how to handle himself.  I’ll put some men on the door, just in case.”

“Wise move.  Someone might try again.”  Cullen nods.  His stomach growls angrily.

Leliana chuckles, “Forgot to eat again, Commander?”

He shrugs and heads back to the training area.  Rylen is waiting.  “Is everything alright, ser?” 

He thinks a moment.  “I need two men that can are good at keeping things quiet and can be trusted.  They need to be fast thinkers with swift blades.”

“I know of two men who fit that profile.”

“Good.  Station them outside the Herald’s room in the Chantry.  And keep it quiet.  We don’t want to panic anyone.”

“Did something happen?” 

Cullen nods, “She’s fine.  But an attempt was made.  Thus the need for secrecy.”

“I understand, ser.  I’ll get someone on it.”  Rylen solutes and leaves.  Cullen enters his tent and sees a small tray of fruit sitting on it.  Leave it to Leliana to be mother hen.   The day continues without any more incidents.  He helps train troops and has some of them spar as a demonstration. 

He remembers that he told Adan he was going to ask Solas more about the mark.  So he stands and heads to his cabin.  When he gets there, Solas is standing outside looking at the Breach.  “Commander?”

“Solas.  I had an idea last night.  A body needs a restful sleep to fully heal, both physically and mentally right?”  Solas nods.  “Well, as I watched her sleep last night…”

Solas cocks an eyebrow, “You were watching her sleep?”

“I… not like that… Adan wanted a templar to watch her during the night to make sure the mark was safe.  It makes him nervous.  He wouldn’t even clean her hand, because of it.  So, while I washed her…”

Solas smirks, “You bathed her?”

Cullen groans, “You have been hanging out with Varric too much.  Listen.  The mark is producing some sort of magic, although unknown.  I wanted to see if I could use my skills as a templar to maybe disconnect her from the pain.  Maybe that’s the wrong word…”

Solas nods, “I think I understand what you are getting at.  Your theory is that one of your magic cancelling abilities might prevent her from feeling when the mark flares.  I don’t think it would affect the mark or its power though.”

“No, I don’t want to even attempt something like that.  Not on magic I don’t understand.”

Solas crosses his arms, “You?  Understand magic?”

“Certain types.  Yes.  It’s all part of the training and after… let’s just say I had a renewed motivation to learn as much as I could after the Blight.”

“I see.  Well, what did you have in mind for this experiment?  I’d be more than happy to assist.”

“I’m not sure how familiar you are with templar magic cancelling techniques, but I’ve adapted a preexisting skill.  It works much like a dwarf’s natural resistance to magic.  It’s only temporary and wears off, but it works like a shield.”

Solas rubs his chin and thinks about what he said, “What would you be doing exactly?”

“It’s complicated.  I can really only tell you the expected result.  The mark’s texture is different from her skin.  If I can isolate it, I could put a sort of barrier around it.”

“I know how to make a barrier.  I tried that, but she is attached to it.”

“True, but barrier magic creates a protective armor around the whole person.  This is finite.”

“I think I should be there when you attempt this.  I might have to stop you from killing both of you.”

“Fair enough.  I’ll meet you there after dark.  I’m keeping watch again tonight.”

Solas nods and goes into his cabin.  Cullen trusts Solas, but when he acts like that, he doesn’t think the feeling is mutual.  He also isn’t sure if that is because of his personality or because he used to be a templar.  _Maybe he doesn’t like being reminded I can stop his magic.  That’s probably it.  This should be interesting_.  He returns to his tent.

At dinner, a scout brings a handful of reports and another tray of food. “From Sister Nightingale, ser.”  He leaves before getting for a response.  Which is not usual for one of her people.

He eats as he scans the reports.  Most of them are the results of the investigation.  They all checked out.  Good.  He sees a report of the Herald of Andraste rumors.  Most common folks buy into the story, a few nobles, but absolutely none of the Chantry.  In fact, they have renounced her, calling for her execution for the Divine’s murder.  He casts it aside, suddenly angry.  How could they blame her?  She had family at the conclave, she has thrown herself into grave danger just to even attempt to close the Breach, which nearly killed her.  These were not the actions of a mass murderer.  He finishes his meal and reads the last report.

 

_Patient Observation – Day 2_

_The Herald’s pulse and breathing have returned to normal._

_Still unresponsive.  She is carefully being drop-fed prepared elfroot extract to hasten her recovery._

_A lot of thrashing.  Mutters about too many eyes and something about “the grey.”  Encouraging?  We’ll see._

_Cleaning and wrapping the “mark” seems to have calmed it.  Not as many flare ups today._

_\- Adan_

 

Cullen neatly sorts and stacks the reports on his desk.  Then stands and removes his armor, placing it on the rack.  Not wanting to sleep in armor padding again, he continues to strip.  He removes everything until he stands shivering in his small clothes.  He quickly opens a small truck and puts on a pair of loose fitting brown pants.  The wind blows in from under his tent’s flap and sends chills up his spine.  He reaches into the truck and pulls out a loose fitting linen shirt.  He puts it on, tucks it into his pants, and tightens the stings at the collar.  He wraps his mantle around him and shivers.  _“It’s like this every single night.  I really need on get some insolation for this thing.”_   He pulls some woolen socks onto his feet and starts for his cot.  He stops, _“I’m supposed to be meeting Solas.”_   He shoves his boots back on, grabs his sword, and wraps the mantle more securely around him.  He walks briskly in the biting wind to the Chantry.

When he gets to her door, there are two men standing there.  One his, one Leliana’s.  They solute him.  “Commander.”

“As you were.”

“There have been no incidents since earlier, ser.  Sister Leliana just wanted fresh eyes on the door…”

“I understand.  You don’t have to explain.  Is Solas already inside?”

“Yes, ser.”  Cullen goes past them through the door.  Solas is sitting in the chair next to her bed.  He has her marked hand in his.  He has unwrapped it and is moving a finger along the mark.  Cullen feels a wave of jealousy wash over him.  Which confuses him.  Why should he be jealous?  Of Solas?  Ha!  He pushes the feelings aside and fully enters the room.  He sets his mantle and sword on what he has dubbed his bed. 

Solas eyes him.  “I’ve never seen you out of armor.”

“Most people haven’t.”

“You must trust me more than I realized.”

Cullen cocks an eyebrow, “Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

“No.  It’s just nice to know.”  Solas returns his attention to the mark.  Cullen’s eyes drift from where Solas’s hands are touching hers to her face.  Her color is slowly returning.  Her lips are not pale but soft pink.  His breath catches and he rushes to look elsewhere.  Her eyes are moving rapidly behind her lids. 

“I wonder what she’s dreaming about.”

“Pardon?”  Solas looks up at him.

Cullen feels a blush form in his cheeks.  He rushes to cover up his staring, “Her eyes are moving.  I assume that means she’s dreaming.”

“Likely not something pleasant.”  He pauses, “You were right about the mark’s texture.  It is different.  I hadn’t noticed that before.  It feels like an old piece of parchment.”

“Yes!  That’s it.  I was trying to place it last night, but I couldn’t. May I?”  He motions to the chair.  Solas stands and moves so Cullen can sit.  Cullen takes her hand and examines the mark.  “I feel confident this will work.  It just need to wait for it to flare so I can trace the path it takes.”

“Why is that important to what you are doing?”

“Again, it’s hard to explain, but if I’m right, then by tracing the path it takes and I can isolate it and make those areas immune to any magical effects.”

“So, after that, the next flare would only hurt her hand and not the rest of her.”

“Right.”  They lapse into silence as they wait.  Cullen wraps both of his hands around hers and closes his eyes.  He knows this is going to hurt him more than it’s going to hurt her.  What he isn’t telling Solas is that he isn’t just blocking her reception but transferring it.  She won’t feel anything from the mark.  He will.  Until his block wares off, he will feel every single flare up the mark has.  But it’s worth it, if he can provide her with a solid night’s sleep.

The mark flares between his hands, she groans and jerks on the bed.  He holds her hand tighter to make sure she doesn’t pull away.  He can feel the magic from the mark following every nerve in her arm.  Like when lightning strikes the ground.  It follows every conductive path until it uses all of its energy.  Once the flare is over.  He sighs.

“What is it?”

“Not wonder she is in pain.  It goes all the way up her arm.  In can only imagine how much it hurt before it was stabilized.”

“She looked to be in incredible pain.  When the Breach grew, so did her mark.  The bigger it got, the more magical energy would surge through it.  I did all I could while studying it to stop its spread to no avail.”

“At least you tried.”  Cullen reaches over to the table and puts an elfroot leaf in his mouth.  It tastes horrible, but it will help him once he does the transfer.  “I need to do this before the next flare.  You should stand closer to the door.  I want your magic active if this doesn’t work.  Be ready.”

“How will I know if you need my assistance?”

“You’ll feel it.”

Solas nods and backs up to the door.  He primes his magic, not knowing what to expect.  Cullen stands, still holding her hand between his and pushes the chair back.  He kneels beside the bed and rest his forehead on his hands.  _“Andraste preserve me.”_   He focuses his silence on the mark.  He can feel it anger.  He can feel Solas prime a freezing spell.  He takes a deep breath and focuses on a cleansing spell.  The mark calms as does Solas.  Quietly Cullen says, “You need to get further away.  It’s trying to work on your magic too.  I’m sure you can feel it.”  Solas quietly and slowly moves as far away from him as he can.  Keeping both abilities active, he activates one more.  He uses an ability called annulment which creates magical resistant armor, but not on himself as most templars do.  He casts it on her.  The mark flares between his hands and he folds onto it firmly.  Squeezing his eyes closed.  He feels the magic shoot up her arm then back track trying to find purchase.  The mark starts crackling as it is stuck in her hand.  Solas takes a step forward.  ”No!  Stay!  I’ve almost got it!”

He drops the first two abilities and the energy from the mark shoots into his hand and up his arm.  He clinches his teeth and rides it out.  The mark calms.  He lets out the air he was holding in a huff.  He has to fight to catch his breath.  Solas rushes to him and helps him into the chair.  “Are you alright?”

Cullen points to her hand.  “Check it.”  Solas picks up her hand and sees that the mark the calmest it has ever been.  Only the faintest green light shines from it.  He looks over at Cullen wide eyed.  “How?”  Cullen holds up his left hand.  Across the palm of his hand is a glowing green light.  Solas grabs it.  “Did you transfer the mark?”

Cullen shakes his head.  “No.  Just redirected the path.” 

Solas examines his hand.  “Remarkable.”

Cullen weakly chuckles, “Re- _mark_ -able?”

“Now, who’s been spending too much time with Varric?”

“Puns are funny.”  Solas continues to study Cullen’s hand. 

He runs his finger along his palm.  “The texture hasn’t change.”

“Because I don’t actually have it.  She does.  It’s like lightning.  When striking, it finds the path of least resistance, which when aimed at say a templar, is metal and nerves.”

Solas nods.  “I won’t ask how you know that.  But I will ask what happens when the mark flares?”

“Why don’t you wait and see?  Also, this should go without saying, what I just did, stays between us.  Got it? Cassandra would kill me.  I don’t know Shea that well, at all, and I’m sure she’d kill me too.”

“Understood.  You look quite pale.”

“I used a lot of energy doing that.  I’m hoping she won’t need me to do that again.  Anytime soon.”

“Do need some lyr…” 

Cullen cuts him off and stands a little too quickly, “No!”  He braces himself of the table.  “No.  No lyrium.”

“Don’t templars take…?”

“I’m not a templar anymore.”

“I think I understand your meaning.  If you ever need assistance with the side effects, let me know.”

“I appreciate it, So…”  The mark flares and Cullen drops to his knees.  He fights to hold in the scream that threatens to escape.  Once it ends, he falls forward to presses his hands into the floor.  He can barely speak.  “Did it work?  Did she feel it?”

“It doesn’t appear so, no.  Both her mark and your ghost mark flared at the same time.  It was just as bright on her hand as it always is, but yours matched.  I can’t believe you did it.  And without…”

“Don’t say it.”

“I won’t.  I am hardly ever left speechless when it comes to acts of magic, but this.  I am at a loss.”  Solas helps Cullen to stand.  “I could try putting a freezing band around your arm.  Stop the pain being so serve.”

Cullen shakes his and moves to his bed. “It wouldn’t work.”

“And why not?”

“For one, it would undo what I just did.  Two, even if it didn’t, the magic of the mark, is technically not effecting me.  The energy transferred would just bypass it travelling further up.  It could seriously hurt me then.”

“So you must suffer until it ends?”

“Yep.”

Solas shakes his head, “You have my respect.  And my sympathies.  You are in for a rough night.”

Cullen scoffs, “Ha.  Night?  It should last until this time tomorrow.”

“You can’t be serious?  You can’t end it?”

“I could.  But I don’t want to.  We need her.  And if she can’t get the rest she desperately needs, she might never fully recover.”

Solas places a hand on Cullen’s shoulder, “You underestimate you own worth.  I will leave you to rest, if you can.”  Solas turns to leave.  He turns back and removes Cullen’s sword and mantle from the bed and place them on top of the chest at the foot on his bed.  Then he leaves.  Before Solas closes the bed, Cullen hears him tell the guards that no one, and absolutely no one, is to enter that room.  Not even if the Chantry is on fire.

Cullen smiles.  He lays back on his bed not bothering to pull back the covers.  He looks over at Shea.  She has rolled over on her side.  Her eyes have stopped darting behind her eyes.  Her breathing steady.  He can almost detect a slight smile on her sleeping face.  _“Completely worth it.”_   As he starts to drift to sleep, the mark flares.  He sits upright and holds his hand to his chest.  How was she able to bare this?  And it was worse before she stabilized the Breach.

Throughout the night, Cullen tries to sleep.  He never gets to sleep for long before being woken by the mark.  On the plus side, he isn’t going to have any nightmares tonight and neither was she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying all this Cullen time! :D
> 
> UPDATED: July 19, 2018


	7. The Hand That Feeds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> I have some news that I think you will like. I'm writing this way faster than I anticipated. My fingers are on fire! So, until further notice, I will be posting two chapters a day, AT LEAST. If all goes well, it could even be three. So Yay!
> 
> Also, I plan on moving my post time back a few hours, except maybe on the days I have class during the day. Anyway, I'm aiming for 4:00 pm EST.

Cullen sits in bed with his ghost marked hand pressed against his ribs.  As the night fades away and the sun slowly starts to peek through the window, it flares briefly.  The pain wasn’t so bad any more.  Not that it is less by any means, just that he has allowed himself to become accustomed it.  He imagines that’s how she is able to bear it.  Thinking of her made him turn his head to look at her.  Her hair is a mess.  A tangled mass of auburn that covered her face.  In the night, she has rolled onto her stomach and stuck one leg out from under the blankets.  She looks so peaceful.

He hears a gentle knock on the door, but it doesn’t open.  He rubs the sleep from his eyes and stands.  He balls his left hand into a fist and puts it behind his back, determined to hide his handy work from whomever is at the door.  He is uncertain as to who it could possibly be.  It is too early for anyone to be awake.  He stops at the thought.  He turns to the chest and grabs his sword from where Solas had placed it.  He approaches the door again.  “Who is it?”

“It’s Solas.”  Cullen opens the door for Solas to slip in.  Solas sees the sword in his hand and Cullen puts it down.

“Sorry.”  Cullen stifles a yawn.

“I see you didn’t sleep much.  How’s the pain?”

Cullen looks down at his hand.  “About the same, but I’m becoming used to it.  What brings you here?”

Solas chuckles, “Well, it’s early and the town is still asleep.  I figured you’d want to get ready for the day before anyone saw you.”

“Right.  I need to cover the mark.  Thank you.”  Cullen wraps his mantle around himself.  “Adan should be here soon to tend to her.  You shouldn’t have to await long.  That man is an early riser.”

Solas sits in the chair.  “I’m not worried about it.  I’m more concerned for your wellbeing at the moment.  You should prepare yourself for people to point out your appearance.”

“Meaning?”

Solas turns to the bowl of water on the table and turns it to ice.  He uses a cloth to polish the surface and hands it to Cullen.  He looks down into it.  His hair is a mess, but that isn’t the biggest give away of a restless night.  His eyes look tired and blood shot, and he has bags under them.  He also knows that if anyone makes eye contact he when the mark flares, the pain will register there.  He hands the bowl back to Solas, who unfreezes it and places it back on the table.

“Great.  As if I didn’t hear that I don’t sleep enough from Leliana enough as it is.  The upside is that at least she looks rested.”

Solas looks over at Shea, “Indeed.”

“I should get going.  Thank you, again.”  Solas nods to him and Cullen walks through the door.  Before closing it, he takes one last look at his sleeping beauty.  He smiles his token half smirk and closes the door.   _“Now, how to hide this mark until I can get to my gloves?”_  He takes his sword into his left hand, blade pointed down and folds his arm into his cloak.  Warm and hidden.  Still he walks swiftly through the village.  There are a few people stirring and being without his armor is starting to make him feel paranoid.

He nods to a few people in the streets.  More than a few of those people look surprised to see the Commander out of armor.  He picks up the pace them, suddenly feeling self-conscious and naked.  When he arrives in his tent, he lets out a sigh of relief. It’s freezing, but it’s more home than any other spot in Haven.  Drops his mantle in his chair and leans his sword against the desk.  He looks down at the glowing mark.  He grabs a glove and puts it on.  The green light can still be seen shining softly through the leather.  He takes off the glove and looks around.  He sees a bag with supplies in it.  He digs through it and finds a roll of bandages.  He quickly and tightly wraps his hand and puts the glove back on.  It’s enough the block the light, but if it flares only closing his fist or maybe squeezing the hilt of his sword has any chance of blocking it.  Satisfied, he changes quickly into his armor and not a moment too soon.

Scout Jim enters the tent quickly startling the Commander.   Cullen draws his sword on instinct and spins to see the scout.  “I’m sorry, ser.”  He lowers his sword.  “Lady Cassandra has asked that I bring you to the war room.”

“Do you know why?”

“No, ser.  She said it was need to know.”  Cullen sheaths his sword and turns to the desk.  He grabs the reports he set aside the night before and motions for Jim to lead on.  He follows the scout back through the village.  He nods a good morning to Varric who is warming himself by a fire.  The mark flares.  He sharply inhales and grabs the hilt of his sword to steady him.

“Are you alright, Curly?”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah.  You look fine.”

“Just… dealing with some linger soreness from the past few days.  Nothing to be concerned about.”

“Uh huh.  And I’m the Empress of Orlais.  But fine, don’t tell me.  I’ll just have to make something up for you.” Varric turns from him back to the fire.  Cullen continues towards the Chantry.  He needs to learn to mask his pain better.  Or to lie better.  Not that Leliana would buy any lie he told, that is her job after all.  The best he can hope is that the mark stays calm during this meeting.  If it does, then he can go back to his tent and suffer in private.

He is the last to arrive in the war room.  A large book sets on the table.  He knows why the meeting has been called.  He sees the concern briefly touch each of their faces, Leliana’s is better hidden than the rest, but he can still see it.

“Before anyone says anything, I’m fine.”  They don’t respond, they know him too well.  He always has a need to explain things.  He has to fight the urge to tell them he had a rough night’s sleep and he’s just tired.  The mark flares again.  He closes the fist and puts it behind his back.  They are all watching him, judging him, gauging his actions.  He rubs his neck, “Maker’s breath.  Can you all stop staring at me?”

Hearing the biting tone to his voice, Cassandra turns her attention to the book.  “Do you know what this is?”  He nods.  “I think it’s time to start.  It takes a lot of time to set up an Inquisition.  We need to start right away.”

Josephine looks over at her.  “Have we decided the Herald’s involvement yet?  The Chantry is still calling for her execution and publicly I might add.”

Leliana offers, “Maybe we should offer her a position.  She will have a vital role in the events to come.”

“I think that is best.  I will offer it to her when she wakes.  Has anyone gone to see her this morning?”  No one answers.  Cassandra is looking at Cullen.  He realizes they are speaking to him.

“My apologies.  Yes.  She looks more rested than she has since stabilizing the Breach.  I’ll wait for Adan’s report later today to confirm that.”  He pulls out a report for his stack and offers it forward with his right hand.  Cassandra takes it.  “As you can see, her vitals are stabilizing.  From my own observations, the mark seems to be calmer as well.”  If they only knew how he knew that for certain.  “The flares seem to be taking more time between them.”

“That’s good to hear.  I saw how much they pained her before. Solas seems to think that closing that last rift has stopped it from spreading.  That the mark’s behavior is directly linked to the Breach.”

Cullen nods, “That makes sense.  Where do we stand on formally declaring the Inquisition has started?”

Cassandra looks around the table, “The Chantry does not support us.  They have not openly said so, but I know they will once we do.  As for the Herald, we cannot force her to join us.  She must join us willingly.  I have no doubts that she is innocent.  I will tell her as much, but it is her life to do with as she wishes.”

Josephine writes something on her pad, “What role would she have?”

Cullen chimes in, “We need her to seal rifts, which means she will be putting herself directly into the line of fire.  I say we make her a part of the war council.  Have her at these meetings.”

Leliana nods, “She knows more than any of us what she is capable of.  The Commander is right, I think.  Having her here, telling us if she thinks she can do the missions that need to be done, would save us time and possibly many lives.”

Cassandra sighs, “If she wakes up.  I’m not sure what has a hold of her, but I hope she’s fighting it.”

“Of course she is.  But these mutterings in the report?”  Josephine looks over at Cullen, “Have you heard them?  Do you have any idea what they might mean?”

He shrugs, “How would I even begin to know?  And no, she was quiet last night.”

Josephine lightly gasps, “Last night?”

“Come now, Lady Montilyet.  You know perfectly well that…”  He sees her suppress a laugh.  “Oh.  Ha ha.  Are we done here?  I have recruits to train.”

Cassandra smiles, “Alright.  Alright.  Calm down.  I believe that’s all we needed to discuss regarding the Inquisition.  We’ll be able to finalize our plans once Lady Trevelyan is ready.”

With that, the meeting ends.  Cullen doesn’t want to wait around to talk to the others, like he might normally.  The longer he is under Leliana’s watchful eye, the sooner it will be that what he has done will be discovered.  He’s tired and weak from the energy loss from using templar abilities without the aid of lyrium.  Cullen quickly bids them farewell and leaves the war room.  He knows that they will stay and discuss his appearance, but he can’t think about that.  Any distractions will make it that much harder to hide the ghost mark and the pain he is in.

Keeping his left hand resting on the hilt of his sword makes it easier.  His day drags on at a snail’s pace.  Everything moving as if in slow motion.  He vaguely remembers a servant, clearly one of Leliana’s spies by the way she’d look him over when she entered, bring him food and drink through the day.  He filled out reports on how his troops were fairing in their training, ran a few drills, and then he received a request from Redcliffe for aid.  He stands with report in hand.  The mark flares as he reads making him crumple the report.

“Are you alright, Commander?”  He looks up to see that Cassandra has enter.

“I… yes.  I’m fine.”  Cullen sets the report on the desk and tries to flatten it out.

“Com… Cullen.  I spend most of my time in Haven beating up training dummies and helping train your men.  You seem to forget that those dummies are just on the other side of that canvas wall.  I’ve heard you moving around in here, grunting as if in pain.”  He sits not meeting her eyes.  She continues, “Is it withdrawal?  Have the nightmares kept you awake?”  He thinks to himself, _“Oh thank you, Seeker.  You just provided me with the perfect cover.  Why had I not thought of it first?”_

He exhales, “I believe it is related, yes.  Especially since the Conclave.  My nightmares have more ammunition to torture me with now.  Thus sleep is hard to come by.  I appreciate your concern, Cassandra.  I promise you, if this becomes a problem…”

She puts up her hand to stop him, “I understand.  Take a break.  Try to sleep, if you can.  I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.”  She starts to leave.

“A moment, Cassandra.”  She stops and he holds out the report.  “It’s from Redcliffe.  A request for aid.  They don’t know who to ask and have turned to us.  I think we should at least send a scout and some of men out there to take a look.”

She takes the report, “I’ll put Leliana on it.  Now, rest.”  She leaves before he can say anything else.  He eats a few grapes from the bowl on his desk.   _“When did that get there?”_  He rubs his eyes, maybe having a short nap couldn’t hurt.  It’ll be sometime before the mark troubles him again.  Not bothering to remove his armor he lays down on his cot.  It doesn’t take longer for sleep to take him.  

He is woken some hours later by the mark.  He looks down at his gloved hand and sees the muffled green light shining beneath it.  As he rides the pain, the mark fades completely.  He quickly removes his glove and the bandages.  The ghost mark is gone.  He sighs.  It didn’t last as long as he thought it would.  He still feels a bit drained and could easily go back to sleep.  He sees a new stack of reports on his desk. He stiffly rises from the cot.  Through the flaps of his tent, he can see that the sun is setting.

He sits at the desk and starts reading.  Most of the reports are typical.  Rylen on how the troops are progressing. A report from Leliana stating that she has sent her best scout, a dwarf named Harding, to Redcliffe.  And then he gets to the report he was looking for.

 

_Patient Observation – Day 3_

_Less thrashing in her sleep.  Some response to stimulus.  Her vitals seem solid._

_Two more attempts so far to break into the Chantry to try and kill my patient._

_All this work to save her life, and will they just execute her?_

_We are relocating her to the cabin Lady Montilyet has assigned her._

_Informing Lady Cassandra that I expect her to wake before the morn._

_-Adan_

 

He feels a weight he didn’t know was there lift from his shoulders.  She will be waking soon.  The pain and exhaustion was worth it.  He doesn’t know for sure, but he is certain transferring the pain has helped speed her recovery.  He stands and heads for the exit.  Before throwing open the flap, he stops.  If she woke while he was there, what would she say?  Would she be afraid?  Would she be unnerved by him watching her sleep?

They are going to invite her to join the Inquisition.  To become a member of the war council.  To be a colleague.  He turns back to his desk and leans on it.  He must be a professional.  He can’t let this obsession over a woman he doesn’t even know cloud his judgement.  He sighs and removes his armor.  He changes into the clothes he wore the night before.  He grabs a whetstone from his bag and sits on his cot sword in hand.  He knows that the blade is already sharp, but the sound of scraping metal helps calm his mind.  It also distracts him.  Sharpening a blade is careful work and one false move can ruin the blade or result in a nasty cut.

He examines the blade.  Satisfied and calm, he returns the whetstone to his bag and places his sword next to his armor.  A new wave of sleepiness hits him.  He sits on the cot, pulling his blanket over him.  He lays down staring at the top of his tent.  His mind returns to the battle at the temple.   _She has great form.  Whomever training her did an excellent job.  Maybe she’ll help train the soldiers.  I wonder how her hair stays so perfect while she is fighting so hard._  His eyes start to close slowly.  He sighs contentedly.  He surrenders to the pull of sleep, solid in the belief that he will finally get to see her eyes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! Love!
> 
> UPDATED: July 19, 2018


	8. Weight of the World

Shea’s eyes shoot open and she bolts upright in bed with a gasp.  Her mark twitches, reminding her of what happened, bringing her back to her new reality.  She rubs her eyes and slings her bare feet off the side of the bed.  She feels groggy, almost hungover.  She groans and rubs her face with both hands.   _“Come on, wake up.”_  She hears a gasp and the sound of something hitting the floor.  She uncovers her face and sees that a shaky elf woman has entered and dropped the wooden box she was carrying.

“Oh!  You’re awake!  I didn’t know!  I swear!”

Shea smiles at the nervous elf, “Don’t worry about it.  I only just…”  

The elf falls to her knees, placing her forehead on the ground in supplication.  “I beg for your forgiveness!  And your blessing!  I am but a humble servant.”

Shea is even more confused than she was upon waking.  Is this elf bowing to her?  Like some sort of worshiper?  What in the hell happened while she was out?  “Where am I? And…”

“You’re back in Haven, my lady.  They save you saved us.  You stopped the Breach from growing.  It’s all anyone has talked about for 3 days!”

Shea inhales sharply.   _3 days?!  I was out for 3 days?!_ “I’m confused.  People don’t hate me now?”

“I’m sorry.  I’m only saying what I heard.  I didn’t mean to offend you, my lady.”  The elf stands and starts backing away.  “I must tell Lady Cassandra that you’re awake.  She said ‘at once’!”

Cassandra would have answers.  “Where is she?”

Elf continues her nervous retreat.  “She is in the Chantry. ‘At once,’ she said!”  The elf flees from the cabin.  Shea takes a moment to survey her surroundings.  She is in a spacious, one room cabin.   From her spot on the bed, she can see that across the room is a chair and small table.  Next to those is a trunk.  There’s a lit brazier on the wall next to an open window.  Splitting the room slightly are two short walls that almost form a foyer by the door.  There are few bookshelves in front of those walls with scarcely a book on them.  Between her bed and the desk is fireplace.  There’s a decent sized open space below the window.  She wonders what was there or what could be put there.  A barrel next to the bed serves as a nightstand.

There a few strands of elfroot and some potions on it.  A note is tucked beneath one of the glass flasks.  She picks it up and reads.

 

_Dear…_

_It occurs to me I don’t actually know your name.  Not much time when you’re ass deep in demons, I guess._

_Anyway, I had Chuckles make you some healing potions.  Told him they were for me, so they are very strong.  I have a tolerance…_

_Only drink one unless you want to feel like you’re swimming in the Breach all day.  If so, then have at it._

_Remember to breathe._

_-V_

 

She sets the note down and picks up a bottle.  She smiles.    _Ah Varric.  Still flirting, I see._  She pulls the cork and swigs it down.  Strong is an understatement.  She coughs violently as the potion slides thickly down her throat.  

“Oh Maker! That’s terrible!”  She’s not even sure who to blame for that.  Varric or Chuckles?  Who’s Chuckles?  She shakes her head and stands.  A small mirror glints catching her attention.  She picks it up to the look at herself.  “Oh no.  No wonder that elf was terrified.  What am I supposed to do about this?”  She looks around frantically.  She sees the wooden box the elf dropped.  She bends down and opens it.  A note sits on top of some clothes and some haircare items.  She sighs with relief and puts the box on the bed.  She reads the note.

 

_Lady Trevelyan,_

_Firstly, I want to officially welcome you to Haven.  I’m sure you are confused and disoriented after sleeping for three days, but allow me to help.  In this box you will find clothes, that I hope you find suitable, and some things you might need to regain control of your hair.  I am a woman with a lot of hair, much like yourself, so I know how vital proper hair care is._

_If you have any requests on additions to your cabin or need any assistance, please feel free to reach out to me.  My office is in the Chantry._

_And thank you for attempting to save people and seal the Breach.  I know it took a lot out of you.  It means a lot that you put your life on the line to save countless lives.  Thank you._

_Sincerely,_

_Ambassador Josephine Montilyet_

 

The clothes in the box are not unlike the one she arrived in.  Black pants, a blue embroidered tunic, leather arm bracers, a leather belt, and matching boots.  There is even a gray scarf in the box.  No armor though.  She looks down at herself.  Someone has changed your out of her borrowed clothing and replaced it with a simple beige outfit with far too many buttons.  It is hideous.   _Must be what they dress people in when being cared for.  How depressing._  She quickly changes into her new clothes and laces up the boots.  She retrieves the brush, hair ties, and pins from the box and goes over to the desk.  On closer inspection, she discovered how truly disgusting her hair has become.  She doesn’t even want to think of how much demon blood, fade goo, sweat, and dirt is in it.  It wasn’t even the right color anymore.  That would have the wait however.  She has a suspicion people are waiting for her.

Regaining control of her dirty, tangled hair is no easy task.  But she eventually gets it braided.  She doesn’t bother folding it into her usual bun.  That’s just more work and time she’d have to spend touching it.  She reaches over the chest to see what was inside.  It is winter gear.  A dark cloak and a pair of gloves.  She looks down at her marked hair.  It is still glowing but not brightly.  She grabs the soft leather gloves and puts them on.  They completely hid the glow to her satisfaction.

 _Better not keep Cassandra waiting any longer than necessary._  She stands and opens the cabin door.  The streets are lined with people.  All of them bowing their heads.  The soldiers standing in front of the villagers are either at attention or saluting with their arm across their chest.  She gently closes the door behind her.  This is a very different place than when she walked through as a prisoner.  She slowly walks down the path.  People mutter phrases like, “Maker be with you” and “Blessing upon you, Herald of Andraste.”  

 _Did that person call me Herald of Andraste?  What have I gotten myself into?_  She picks up her speed feeling self-conscious and nervous.  It looks as if the entire population is crowded onto the streets.  Everyone straining to get a look at her.  She casts her eyes to the ground and focuses on putting one foot in front of the other.  The crowd acting as barricades creating a single path through the village, straight to the Chantry.  The remaining brothers and sisters are standing outside it.  Their heads bowed as if in prayer.  As she approaches the big Chantry doors, they are opened before her.  Leliana is standing just inside.

She is surprised at the relief she feels seeing someone she recognizes.  The doors close behind her as she crosses the threshold.  Leliana smiles at her.  “You look well, if not a little overwhelmed.”

Shea smiles back, “That’s an understatement.  A vast change to what I saw when I left this building.”

Leliana nods, “Recent developments have changing things.  The villagers know you saved us all by stabilizing the Breach.  It is not closed, but it has stopped spitting out demons, for that we are all grateful.”

“That’s something at least.”

“Follow me.”  Shea follows Leliana to the back of the main hall where there is another set of large doors.  She can hear shouting coming from behind them.  She groans.   _This guy?  Again?_

Leliana opens the door and allows Shea to pass.  His red face pinches as he points at her, “Arrest that woman!”  

Cassandra yells back to the guards, “Ignore him and leave us.”  They do as instructed, closing the doors behind them.  Roderick continues yelling at Cassandra about her guilt as if she isn’t even there.  She leans against the wall and crosses her arm over her chest.  He calls her attempt at closing the Breach a convenient failure.

“Hey!  I did everything I could to close it.  I’ll remind you that I nearly died in the process.”

Cassandra nods, “Exactly!  And the Breach isn’t our only concern.”

Leliana slides up to the table, “Someone caused that explosion.  It could be anyone.”

He straightens, “You think I had something to do with it?!”

Leliana shrugs, “We have a long list of suspects.”

“But not the _prisoner?”_

Cassandra looks over at Shea, “No.  I am convinced of her innocence.”

He starts ranting again and Shea tries to tune him out.  Cassandra thinks she’s innocent.  Well, that’s a start, and no one is trying to execute her anymore, she hopes.  Cassandra slams a large book on the table and the room falls silent.

“Do you know what this is, Chancellor?  A writ from the Divine, granting us authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn.”  She shoves a finger in his chest backing him against the wall.  “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order with or without your approval.”  He puffs up like an angry blowfish and storms out of the room.

Shea smirks.  If she was at all into women and if the anger isn’t pointed at you, what Cassandra just did was kind of hot.  Cassandra looks over to see her smirking.  “What?”

Shea puts her hands up defensively.  “Nothing.  I’m just impressed.  And very relieved.  So, what now?”  Cassandra and Leliana proceed to tell her everything she needs to know about the Inquisition and what it means.  They have no leaders, no army, and now no Chantry support.

Cassandra sighs, “But none of that is even possible without you.”

“Me?  Why me?”

“You are the only one who can seal the rifts and you are a capable fighter.  We need you.”

Shea breathes deeply.  She has a lot of concerns and questions floating around in her head, but she has wanted to help people her whole life.  This is a chance to end the war, to fix the hole in the sky, to find who murdered the Divine, her uncle, and so many others.  Without hesitation she clasps Cassandra’s out stretched hand and shakes it.  “I’m in!”  They both sigh with relief.  “What?  You thought I’d say no?”  She laughs and turns for the door.  “Well, what are we just standing around here for?  We’ve got an Inquisition to create.”

Haven buzzes with activity.  Fortifications are underway, turning this pilgrims’ retreat into a war camp.  Banners are flown.  Crows are sent.  A proclamation nailed to the Chantry door.  She isn’t quite sure what to do with herself.  No one has given her orders on what to do.  So, she looks for an armory.  She finds the blacksmith outside the newly erected, timber walls.

“Excuse me, ser?  I was looking for a place to get armor.”

He looks up from his forge, soot caking his face.  It takes him a moment, but she sees recognition fill his face.  He motions for someone to take over as he wipes his hands on a cloth.  “Herald.  We’ve been expecting you.  We’ve made a few options for you.  Follow me.”  She really needed to ask someone about this Herald thing and why people kept calling her that.  “Supplies have been hard to come by, naturally, but we’ve made due.  I don’t know your method, but I’ve got three basic options for ya.  If you find schematics on more advanced armor, I can make that too, I’ll just the supplies.”  Before he can even tell her about the different types, she points to one.

“I wear heavy armor.  Needs to have lots of padding and as full coverage as possible.”  She picks up a part of the armor, “It’s fine work…”

“Harritt.”

“Harritt.  It will definitely work for now.  I’ll keep an eye out for designs that I like.  Thank you.  Now, about weapons?”  She spends a good portion of the morning talking to Harritt.  He’s gruff, but polite.  He’s a very talented smith.  They talk about different metals he can work with and various ways to combine materials to make a more custom work from a basic design.  She is utterly fascinated by everything he is telling her.

“Herald, if I may.”  She nods, “You are very different than what I expected.  You’re a noble, right?  That’s what they say.”  She nods, “Why are you so interested in me and my forge?  Most nobles don’t give two shits about the men who work under them.”

She smiles at her, “I’ve never been that way.  My best friend back in Ostwick is a Dalish elf who came to work for me when I saved her from the streets of Kirkwall.  I knew my stable boy, by name.  I also knew that he loved apples, possibly more than my horse did.”  It occurs to her then that her beloved horse has also likely perished in the explosion.  She pushes the thought from her mind.  “I respect you, Harritt, and the work you do.  If you ever need anything, some rare metal you want to experiment on, or maybe I could bring back some materials I just happen to find on the road, or good chat.  You name it.  We’re all in the same boat here.”

She goes gather her new armor and he stops her.  “Come inside.  I’ve got some custom stuff.  You are the Herald of Andraste.  You deserve to look better than all those other grunts running about.” She follows him into his cabin next to the forge.  He opens a chest and starts laying out the pieces.  “This looks like it should fit you. We’ve got hard leather boots that you strap the greaves, lower leg pieces, to.  The pants are padded and thick.  They’ll keep ya warm and protect your thighs from getting slashed.  Same with the shirt.  There’s a belt, of course.  The gloves are made the same as the pants, but made of a more flexible leather, can’t be dropping your weapon in battle.  Then you’ve got the… I’ll skip the technical terms… armor for your chest and arms.”  He has laid everything out on the ground.  All the cloth and leather is a rich gray.  The brushed metal is dark, almost black, with polished accents.  

She removes one of her gloves to run her hand across the breastplate.  “It’s beautiful.  Thank you, Harritt.”

He smiles. “I’ll pack it up and have someone deliver it to your cabin.  Now, you said you typically use a greatsword, correct?”  She nods.  “I don’t have one made.  Yet.  But have you ever tried a great _axe?_ ”  She shakes her head.  “Then I’ll make one for you to try.  While you wait, I’ll see that piece of junk you found turned into a proper blade.”  She stands and extends her hand.  He shakes.  “I’ll have the sword delivered with the armor.”

“Thanks, again.  You’ve been very welcoming.  If there’s ever anything…”

“Bah.  Don’t get all misty on me.  Now, git.  I have work to do.”  He packs up her armor and leaves.  She smiles and follows him out.  She waves as she jogs back toward town.  She is almost to the new reinforced gate and she skids to a full stop.  The man, the Commander, his swept back blonde hair ruffles in the cold breeze as he barks orders at the men training around him.  “There’s a shield in your hand!  Use it!”  She feels her cheeks warm as she watches him.  The soldier he is yelling gets whacked by his sparring partner.  He yells again, “If this was a real fight, you’d be dead!”  He presses the bridge of his nose between two fingers.  A man walks up holding a report, he takes it then hands it back, saying something she can’t hear.  The man solutes and leaves.  He returns to yelling at various soldiers to get their shields up.  She decides to make a move.  Be the first one to speak.  Be brave and daring.  Maybe flirt a little.  She has no idea where this courage comes from, but she doesn’t care. It is her fuel.

She approaches him and her eyes catch the scar on his lip as he turns to yell at someone else.  Her heart leaps into her throat.  She remembers the half grin he gave her when they first met.   _Abort.  Abort. Abort._

“Commander.”  She is shocked by how even her voice sounds.  

His heart pounds in his chest.  He’s fairly certain he’s just said something offensive to a recruit.  He turns to face her.  “Ah, Herald.  What can I do for you?”

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.”  She extends her hand.  “Shea Trevelyan.”  She feels like she is outside of her body watching this confident woman standing where a nervous young girl should be.   Her heart is beating a mile a minute and she knows her palms are sweating.   _Maker bless gloves_.

He extends his hand and shakes hers.  “Commander Cullen Rutherford.  It’s nice to see you vertical.”  He coughs into his hand, cheeks burning.  “That sounded way better in my head.”

Her eyes had been locked on his mouth.  Watching him speak.  When he covers his mouth it forces her to move her gaze.  Though he is not looking at her, she can see is honey colored eyes looking bashfully away.

He hears her chuckle softly, “If you hadn’t pointed it out, I might not have noticed.”  More red.  He is so adorable when he blushes.  Her heart aches for him to look at her.  He rubs his neck.  “So, can I ask you something?”   _Success!_  He finally looks at her and their eyes lock.  Amber, honey, golden eyes.  She can’t stop the blissful sigh that escapes her lips.  She hopes to the Maker he didn’t hear her.

Sparkling like the sun shining off the waves of an ocean.  He missed those eyes.  Even if it was only for a moment, they have imprinted on his soul.  She had said something to make him look at her, what was it?  He hears the quiet sigh escape her lips.   _“She puts on an excellent show.  She’s as nervous as I am.  And that tiny little sigh just proved it.”_

They continue to stare mesmerized.  Cullen smirks at her.   _“Dear god, woman.  Don’t swoon.  Do not swoon.”_

“You wanted to ask me something?”

“Yeah.  Yes.”  She blinks purposefully a few times, trying to break the spell he had on her.  “Why do people keep calling me the ‘Herald of Andraste’?”  He smiles and starts walking between the rows of soldiers.  He rests his hands on the hilt of his sword.  She walks beside him.  

“We aren’t sure how or even who started it, but the people of Haven believe that the woman standing behind you in the Fade was Andraste.  They also say that she bestowed that mark on your hand so that you could save the world.”  She stops walking.  He said it so matter-of-factly it took her off guard.  He turns to look at her.  Confusion or maybe bewilderment written on her face.  Her eyes are cast down to the ground and she is rubbing the palm of her left hand.  “Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother me?  Being dubbed the savior of the world sent by the bride of the Maker?  Or the mark?”  Her voice sounded distant, almost cold.  He couldn’t stop his hand from taking hers.  The action surprises them both.  Adding to that surprise is her instinct to grab his back.  She looks up at him them.  Both of them breathless in their unexpected moment.  “I… uh… to answer my own questions.  Yes?  Note the question mark.  And not anymore.  I’ve just realized that it hasn’t even sparked once today.”

“Why the question mark?”  His eyes leave their joined hands and return to her face.  Her eyes are looking at their hands.  She watches his hand shift position slightly and then feels his thumb gently rubbing the exact spot where the mark is on her palm.  She closes her eyes.  She can’t tell if her body or the mark are responding to the touch as a tingling feeling travels up her arm.  The sound of metal clashing against metal reminds her that they aren’t alone.  

She slowly and gently pulls her hands from his.   _“Don’t look at him.  Don’t.”_  She can feel that the confident woman has left her, leaving the little girl she is to fend for herself.  Emotions she’s been trying to ignore are threatening to boil over.

 _“Oh Maker.  What did I say this time?”_ He thinks as he lets her pull her hand away. Her eyes are closed keeping her eyes from him.  He reaches out.

She feels him gently grab her chin and force her to look at him.  She opens her eyes and sees the concern in his.  She takes a deep breath, forcing her emotions back down.  She takes another for good measure.  “I’m not sure if I was sent by Andraste.  I really can’t answer that.  I still don’t remember what happened.”  She smiles slightly, “It’s a nice idea though.”

He lets out the air he didn’t know he was holding.  He didn’t cause her pain.  That’s good.  “It is.  But ultimately, it will your decision if you chose to keep the title.  Good luck stopping people though.  Their belief is strong.  As is mine.”

“Oh no.  You’re not going to call me Herald every time I see you, are you?”  

He smirks at her, “There will be other times?”

She blushes, “Well played, Commander.”  

A man comes up to him with a report.  “Ser?  We need to review some reports I just received from Redcliffe.”

He turns to leave, “Duty calls.”  He casually winks at her, smirks as her cheeks redden, and goes with Rylen.  She feels eyes on her as she watches him walk away.  She is stunned and breaths away from outright fainting.  Then it occurs to her, “ _That bastard.  He did that on purpose.  Oh it’s on now.  Time to get some flirting lessons from Varric or someone.  I hear Leliana was a bard.  I bet she knows some tricks.”_  She shakes her head, making her long braid move violently behind her.  She straightens and leaves.  An evil idea pops into her head.  “ _I bet he’s going to look back.  See if I left.  If only I could his face after this.”_ She smiles and puts a little more sway in her hips as she walks away.  She grabs her braid so that it is in front of her.  She doesn’t want anything obstructing the view.

Cullen glances over out of the corner of his eyes to see if she has left.  All thoughts leave his head.  He is mid-sentence, mid-walk, and everything just abruptly stops.He hands closes tightly around the report he’s holding.  “Maker’s breath.”

“Ser?”  Rylen follows his gaze.  He snaps in front of Cullen’s eyes.  “Ser!”  

Cullen shakes his head.  “What?  Oh yes.”  He looks down at the crumpled report.  ‘”Just… uh… let me think on this.  I’ll get back to you.”  

Rylen is fighting to hold back his laughter, “As you say, ser.”  He salutes and walks away quickly.

Cullen, fist still closed tightly around the paper, ducks into his tent.  He flops into his chair and rests his elbows on the desk.  He drops the paper and presses his palms into his eyes.  He takes deep breaths trying to slow his heart rate.

“You like her.”  Her voice makes him jump out of his chair.

“Maker’s breath, Cassandra!  Don’t you knock?”

She laughs, “You don’t have a door.”  He drops back into his chair.  “And I said you like her.”

He rubs his neck.  “I would rather not discuss it.”  She laughs loudly.  He narrows his eyes, glaring at her.  She holds up her hands, “I’m not mocking you, I promise.”  He sighs and squeezes the bridge of his nose.  “You do realize she played you, right?”

“What?”

“I saw the whole thing.  So did half your men, I’ll point out. I’m sure Leliana will be getting full report of the exchange later this afternoon.” He groans.  “I saw that wink and smile you gave her when you turned to leave.  She was just returning the favor.”

He scoffs, “Women.  You’re relentless.”

“It’s not our fault you are easy to… fluster.”  

He looks up at her.  “Do you all do that?”

She laughs, “We need some levity in these trying times.  You just happen to be an easy target.”

“Ugh.  You live to torment me.”

“We’ve never gotten that reaction before.  I also believe, you made the first move in the war that is sure to come.”

“War?  What war?”

Cassandra shakes her, “You don’t even realize you started it do you?”

“Started what?”

Cassandra laughs, “Nothing.  Come, we have a meeting in the war room.”  Cassandra starts to exit tent and says under her breath, “This will be fun to watch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading!!
> 
> UPDATED: July 19, 2018


	9. Emotional Rollercoaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** perspective/time shift

He stands and prepares himself.  His heart hate has returned to normal and if he can stop himself from saying anything that isn’t related to the work at hand, he should be fine.  He didn’t even know her that well.  She could fight, seemed dedicated to protecting others, from a noble family.   All these things were just facts, not the person behind them.  He stops himself before his mind really starts to wander.  He must be professional.  If he can do that, then he will be less inclined to take her right on the war table.  “ _Whoa!  Andraste preserve me.  What is wrong with me?”_

Cassandra peaks her head back in the tent, “Are you coming, Commander?”  He swallows the lump that has risen in is throat.  Cassandra’s words mixing with the fantasy his brain has conjured up for him.  He nods and follows her.  _When did it get so ho_ t?  The cold winter breeze hits him in the face and it helps sober him.  When they enter the war room, there she is, twisting the end of her braid, intently listening to something Josephine is saying to her. 

_“Don’t look at her.  Don’t look at her… or the table… just read reports or something.”_

She can tell it’s still effecting him.  His face is flush and he has yet to look at her.  Did she go too far?  Maybe.  But watching him nervously tidying with flushed cheeks is just so damn cute.  She told Josephine what she did before he arrived.  She didn’t know why, it just slipped out.  That’s when she is informed they all do it.  Not all the time, but whenever they need a good laugh.  Josephine makes eye contact with Leliana and nods to Cullen.  They have a plan.

Leliana smiles, “Commander, did you get the report I sent you?”

Cullen looks at her all serious, “I get a million reports every day.  Which one are you asking about?”

Leliana looks at Josephine, “Where did you say that letter was from, Josie?”

She pretends to check her notes, “Let me see.  Ah yes.  It was from a Lady Beaset in Val Royeaux.  She was inquired as to whether the Commander could give her a personal tour of Haven when she arrives next month.”

“Maker’s breath.  Not another Orlesian noble.”  He grumbles at the table.  Josephine bites her lip to keep from laughing.  “I don’t know why you don’t just burn those letters.  It’s never going to happen.”

Leliana smiles, “Commander, this Lady Beaset has a lot of pull at court.  We might need her connections to aid the Inquisition.  We should do whatever it takes to make her happy.”  He sneers up at her.  His scarred lips pulled up crookedly.  His expression sends Josephine into a fit of laughter.  His whole face turns red.

“This again?  Is this person even real?  When will you stop doing this to me?”

Cassandra chuckles, “When it stops being funny.  Let’s get started.  We have much to discuss.”

Shea sends a half grin across the table to him.  He shakes his head returns to reading some reports.  He is embarrassed and a little angry.  He always falls for that trick and fears that one day it won’t be a joke.  Plans are made and some choices lay before Shea.  First, she has to go to Redcliffe to speak to a Mother Giselle and maybe help stabilize the area.  Closing rifts, helping refugees fleeing the war, and fighting both rebel mages and rogue templars.  While she does that she has to decide which group she should bring into the Inquisition to aid her in closing the Breach for good. It’s a lot to think about.

When the council ends, she hangs back.  There’s still daylight left, still time to get a few things done.  She walks with Josephine to her office.  She thanks her for the clothes.  They chat ideally for a while.

“You mentioned in your note that if I had any requests that I should ask you.  Well, is it too much to ask for a bath be installed in that big empty space in my cabin?  I desperately need one.”

“I’m sure I could arrange that.  Is there anything else?”

She thinks.  She puts her hand on her hips.  Her mind starts running though things she took note of, brushing past all the thoughts of Cullen that try to take hold.  She thinks of her uncle and then of feeling something in her belt when Cassandra handed her potions.  Her chest tightens.  “Yes.  Actually.  Do you happen to know where my things went after I passed out?  Everything I had exploded with the conclave.  I don’t need the clothes so much, as the contents of the belt.”

“I’ll have to check with Leliana.  But I will look for them.  Oh, and Cassandra wanted to discuss something with you when you had a chance.  She didn’t want anyone else to mention it to you.”

“Ok.  Should I be worried?”

“Oh no.  It’s just a sensitive matter that she wanted to handle herself.”

Shea sighs, “I should probably go see her then.”

“I will have your request completely promptly.  I believe there is a small fireplace in your cabin?  I’ll have put someone light it and prepare some water for you.  I will also have some more clothes sent now that I know those fit you.”

“Thank you.”  Shea smiles, “What would we do without you?”

“Lose your heads, if they weren’t attached.  I feel like nothing would be done.”

“You are probably right.  Plus, who would deal with all those pesky Orlesian nobles?”  They both laugh.  “Does Lady Beaset exist?”

Josephine laughs, “No.  We made her up.  But wouldn’t it be funny, if he ran into her one day.”  She laughs harder and wipes a tear from her eye.  “We probably shouldn’t bother him so much, but he makes it too easy.”

“So it would seem.  I’ll see you later.”  Shea leaves to go find Cassandra.

***

Cullen didn’t hang around to talk to anyone after the meeting.  He knows they mess with him because they want to see him loosen up, but for some reason it hurt while she watched.  His brash and impure thoughts making him ashamed.  It wasn’t her fault of course.  He’d never felt lust before, at least not for a stranger or not without being manipulated.  He is always trying his best to avoid anything that would tempt Desire.  He pulls his mantle tighter around himself as memories from Kinloch Hold, Ferelden’s Circle, try to pull him into darkness. 

As he passes through the gates, he sees a small group of men building what looks like a funeral pyre on a hill outside town.  The closer he gets to his tent the clearer the picture becomes.  They are the six of his templar recruits.  Why are they building a pyre?  Why them specifically?  There have been a lot of pyres lately.  For those they could identify, some that were too badly burned to tell who they were.  He is glad it isn’t his job to answer those letters.  That thought always brings him shame.

He sighs and watches his new templars build.  He closes his eyes and feels the cold wind brush the fever from his cheeks.  His moments of embarrassment finally drifting away.  His thoughts turn to those lost.  The Divine.  Good men and women that he knew from his days in the Order.  Probably some mages he knew too.  If he had stayed with the templars, would he have been one of the countless names or possibly one of the missing?

The word “name” sticks to his mind.  He learned her name because he had asked about her uncle.  That’s who the pyre was for.  He spins around to look at the newly fortified Haven.  Cassandra was going to tell her after the meeting.  How could he be so selfish?  He is sad but isn’t necessarily grieving.  She is.  He knows that she is.  He has seen it on her face twice now.  He starts walking back into Haven.  He doesn’t know where he is going to wait for her, but that is his plan.  He tries to think of what he’ll say, but he has no idea.

***

Cassandra led Shea into a dark and freezing room.  Tears were already flowing down her cheeks.  If she had any reservations about the kind of person Cassandra was, they were completely gone now.  Sure she had a temper, but deep down she was soft hearted and deeply caring.  She crossed her arms tightly across her ribcage.  She wanted to hold herself together.  She had work to do.  She had to prepare her uncle’s body so that he could be with the Maker.

She can’t see anything.  It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust.  Once they have, she sees there are rows and rows of wrapped bodies.  The thick smell of incense fills her nose.  And though it burns, she is grateful that it covers the alternative.  “Have they… all been…”

Cassandra shakes her head, “No.  We get reports every day asking about the missing.  There is no way to know who all was at the conclave.  We ask them if they have a portrait of them or for a description.  If someone fits, we ask them to send someone who would recognize them.  That’s why most of the pilgrims have come.  Some even without writing first.  The brothers and sisters have their hands full.”

“What of those who…” 

Cassandra sighs, “If the body is too damaged or no one claims them, we haven’t set a cut off for that yet, then we will send them to the Maker together and scatter the ashes at the temple.”  They walk a little further in silence.  Cassandra stops in front of a door.  “Are you ready?”

“No.”  Shea steps past Cassandra and opens the door.  Her uncle has been laid on a table, his helmet removed and placed next to him along with his sword and shield.  She didn’t know much about templar funerals.  Were they so different from everyone else?  What about the armor?  Was she supposed to remove it?  Cassandra places a hand on her back.  “I’m ashamed to admit, but I’m a little lost at sea here.  Are templar funerals different or…”

“Leliana says that templars are burned in their armor.  It melts down and mixes with their ashes.  So too does the lyrium in their blood.  Their ashes are sent to their family.  If you opt to save the sword and shield, they will be sent as well.  Most choose to let the templar take his weapons with him to Maker.”

She sighs.  “Then I’ll do that.”  She walks over to her uncle and places her hand on the cold armor.  There are two things she knows about Trevelyan funerals.  No words and no emotions.  You were only allowed to cry if you weren’t involved in the ceremony, but you still had to be silent.  Tradition states that the closest living relative would climb the pyre, remove the signet ring of the dead, and the light it themselves.  All without speaking or showing any emotion.  “I hate my family traditions,” at a volume just above a whisper.

“Why?”

Shea explains with disdain in her voice, “Trevelyans are people of action.  They are supposed to have will of dragon bone and let their actions speak from them.  For example, when the third and/or fourth born children are set to leave to dedicate their lives in service of the Maker, not a word is spoken at the farewell ceremony.  No a single word.  You’re just supposed to stand there holding your parents’ hands and pray.  Then, when they release your hands, they are releasing you from the family.  You’re supposed to just turn, get on your fucking horse, and leave!  It’s the same bullshit for funerals!”

She covers her mouth.  When had she started yelling?  Cassandra wraps an arm around her shoulders.  “This may not help, but at least he goes to the Maker’s side, and doesn’t have a spirit living inside him.”

She laughs a little, “What?”

“Remind me to tell you about the Mortalitasi sometime.  All you have to do now, is tell us how you want this done and we’ll set it up for you.”

Shea nods.  “Everything done as normal.  In his armor, with his sword and shield.  But, I have to remove the signet ring from his hand, while he’s on the pyre, and then light it myself.  Once his ashes are prepared, I have to place the signet ring inside, seal it up.  And somehow get it to my father in Ostwick.”

“We’ll handle that.  We haven’t told them about you.  Maybe you should write them a letter.”  Shea takes a shaky breath in and nods.  She places her hand on her uncle’s chest one last time.  Then she and Cassandra leave the tombs.

***

Cullen is leaning against on the outside wall of her cabin.  He figured she’d come back here eventually.  He pulls his mantle up some so part of face is hidden in the fur.  He’s freezing.  This was a bad idea.  He pushes off the wall, resigned to give up.  Then he sees Cassandra and Shea coming down the path.  Cassandra sees Cullen and stops Shea.  “Will you be alright the rest of the way?”  Shea nods.  “I’ll be in the Chantry, if you need me.”

“Thank you.”  Cassandra nods to Cullen and leaves.  Shea shuffles towards the cabin.  Her eyes are on the ground.  He can see that she is crying.  It breaks his heart.  He slowly approaches her, purposely making the ground crunch so it won’t startle her.  She looks up and meets his eyes.  She bites her lip to try to stop herself from just letting the floodgates open.  This is practice for tonight.

“Do you need anything?”  His voice warm and low.  She looks at the ground.  He rests his hands on the hilt of his sword not knowing if he should touch her.  She watches the movement and rushes to the door of her cabin.  She shoves the door open and looks back at him.

“I need to hit something.”  She goes into the cabin slamming the door.  He stands there, not really knowing what to do.  She flings the door open again.  She has changed into padded clothing made of thick gray material.  She holds out a dark colored breastplate in his face.  “How the fuck am I supposed to put this on?”

He stops himself from laughing.  She’s mad.  Not at him, but just mad.  Furious even.  “Have you never worn this type of armor before?”  He says as he takes it from her.

“No!  I haven’t!  If you _must_ know, I’ve never worn armor until I left home.  I had never even fought with a sharpened sword until I killed my first…”  She goes quiet.  Then her anger flares again, “Are you going to help me or not?” 

“ _Don’t tell her she’s adorable.  Women hate to that.”_  

He motions for her to lead the way and follows her into the cabin.  She slams the door behind them.  “Well?”

He pulls a chair over to the pile on armor pieces spilling out of an overturned chest.  He grabs the boots.  “Alright, you have the first steps down.  Pants, then shirt.  Then boots.”  She throws himself in the floor and laces her boots.  “Make sure they are tight.  Almost uncomfortable.  Because these come next.”  He hands the pieces to her.  “Those are pretty easy.  Doesn’t matter which leg they gone on, just, you know, knee at the top.”  He smiles at her.  She looks up and to his surprise smiles back.  Once she done that she stands.

“Ok.  Done.  Now what?”  He hands her the chest piece. 

“It snaps on.  There are hinges on one side and groves on the other.  If you press on those groves, it should open.”  She does.

“Well, that’s much easier than what I was trying to do.”  She snaps it tight around her chest.  She notices the straps hanging from the shoulders and buckles them on each side front to back.

“That’s exactly right.  Now,” he hands her a shoulder piece.  “You might need help with this the first time, but you attach this to the strap you just buckled.  Then take this strap here, wrap it under your arm, and buckle through a loop in the back.”  She tries and fails.  “Let me show you.”  He takes the piece from her and slowly shows her how to attach and buckle it.

He is so focused on teaching her that he doesn’t even notice how close there are.  She does.  Her heart races.  His finger brush against her as he works.  She can’t even pay attention to what he’s trying to show her.  The scarred side of his face inches from hers.  She can feel his breathe as he talks her through the steps.  Then he straightens and asks her something.

“I don’t think I got that.”

‘”I know.  It’s difficult to reach back there by yourself.  I usually cheat a little.”  He bends down and picks up the other piece and buckles the under arm strap loosely.  He slides her arm through it and attaches it to the shoulder strap.  “Then you just tug here, like so,” He does.  “And done.  Nothing to it.”  His eyes meet hers and he catches her staring at him.  It is at this moment that he realizes how close their faces are.  “Do you think you got it, now?”

“Uh huh.”

“Great.”  Cullen can feel himself being pulled in by her stare.  He wants to close the distance so badly.  Her eyelashes flutter.  He quickly pulls away and rubs his neck.

 _“Damn it!”_ She thinks.  “ _No!  Get back here and kiss me!”_   She shakes her head no.  They shouldn’t, at least not now.  Her nerves are like live wires and her emotions are unpredictable _.  “It’s good he pulled away.  Yeah.  Good.”_

He hands her the gloves.  “With the way your bracers are made you’ll to put your gloves on first and pull your sleeve over them.  Then strap on the bracers.”  She does as instructed.  She looks up and he is holding the belt.  She puts in on.  “There you go.  All armored up.  No helmet?”

She shakes her head.  “I don’t like them.  Yes, I know they protect you, but they also limit your movement.  I can’t look over my shoulder and see a fireball flying at my head with a helmet on.  I’ve always wondered why templars wore them.  It must be to look intimidating or…”

She trails off and he pounces on the conversation to distract her, “I agree.  I don’t wear one either, that is unless I’m trying to be intimidating.” 

She picks her sword up off the ground.  “I didn’t think to ask Harritt if he included a place to hook this.  He knows I prefer the two-handers.”

“You should feel it catch on your back when you go to place it.”  He walks behind her and pokes a spot on her back.  “Aim here.”  He moves away and she attempts to put her sword away.  She gets it on the first time.

“Wow.  Has anyone ever told you that you are an excellent teacher?”  She turns to face him and he shakes his head.  “Oh come on, don’t be modest.  You just taught me in like 5 minutes to put on a full set of armor.  From what I hear, we’ve taken villagers and farmers and turned them into soldiers in just three days.  Don’t doubt yourself.”

He blushes, “Well, it does help when they already know which way to hold a sword.”  She laughs.  He loves her laugh and the way her nose crinkles when she does.  She makes eye contact with him and he smiles her favorite smile.

“So, where’s a girl got to go to hit something?”

“There are training dummies…”

“Bah!  Training dummies!  I need something that’s going to hit back.  You up for it?”

He thinks to himself, “ _Oh boy.  That could be dangerous in all sorts of ways.  She could get hurt.  I could get hurt.  Other things… but I want to.”_   He nods, “Alright, but we have important jobs here, so...  We should probably not use sharpened weapons.”

She shrugs, “I can live with that.  Let’s go!”  She grabs his hand and drags him from the cabin.  He manages the close the door behind them as she doesn’t stop to do it.  She drags him out the gate and to his tent.  “Alright, Commander.  Where to now?”

She sure is happy all of a sudden.  He looks around for some practice swords.  “I don’t think I have any greatswords, but I could probably make one from wood.”

“Sounds good.”  He grabs a wooden practice sword and shield for himself.  Not wanting to venture to far away just to make a practice sword, he looks for something around his camp.  He finds a broken tent pole.  He tests its durability.  Satisfied, he uses his own sword to blunt the broken end.  He hands it to her, “Herald.”

“Seriously?  Please just call me Shea.  That _is_ my name.  I suppose in mixed company you can use something more formal, but when it’s just us… you get it right?”

He nods and smiles, “But only if you do the same.”

She laughs, “Call you Shea?  That could get confusing.”  He lightly shoves her.  “Alright, Cullen.  Are we doing this here or somewhere else?”  He pulse quickens as she says his name.

“Uh, I don’t think we should train here.  We’d gather an audience.  I think I know a place not far from here.  Just through the trees.”

“Lead the way.”  He goes into his tent and scribbles a quick note.

_Gone into forest.  Training with Herald._

_Send a scout, if it’s important._

_Stressing the word important._

_-Commander_

He pins the note to the outside of his tent.  “Right this way.”  He leads her away from the camp into the trees.  They walk in silence as their feet crush the snow beneath their feet. He wants to ask her about her feelings.  If she’s prepared so say goodbye to her uncle?  How her mark is doing?  But he doesn’t.  He can see with a sideways glance that she’s already having a hard enough time.

“ _Does he think I can’t see him looking at me?  He’s not that smooth.  This silence is kind of awkward.”_   She speeds up and little so she is walking next to him.  “Where are you from?”

“Originally?  Honnleath.  I left when I was 13 to join the Order.”

“You were a templar?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Nope.  I’ve never met an _ex_ -templar before.  I actually wasn’t aware the Chantry let templars just quit.”

“I had my reasons.  Reasons I would like to keep to myself for now.”

“Ok.  I have this nagging feeling that I’ve seen you before, by the way.”  He stops to face her.  She follows suit.

“Really?  I think I’d remember you.”

“I don’t think we’ve met.  I’ve just seen you around.  Ever been to Ostwick?”

“No.  I was at Kinloch Hold during the Blight.  Then Kirkwall.  Then here.”

She sharply inhales.  “I have seen you!”  She smiles brightly. “I was in Kirkwall with my uncle!  I was there with his group to help.  That was years ago, but still.  You don’t easily forget the things you saw in Kirkwall after… well you know.”

“I was Knight-Commander when I met your uncle.  But you weren’t there.”

She shakes her head, “Uncle Hayden wouldn’t let me go into the Gallows.  Doesn’t mean I didn’t sneak in, but that’s a different story.”

“What reason could you possibly have for accompanying templars to Kirkwall?”

“I wanted to help.  I knew it was needed and though I was much younger and couldn’t help with super important things.  I could help those displaced by the explosion and the Blight and the fighting.  Well, those impacted by all the horrible shit going on there.  I mostly gave out food and helped bandage wounds.  In fact, I met and saved my best friend from the streets of Kirkwall and when we left she came with us.  But again that’s a different story.”

He starts walking again.  “The clearing is this way.  I still don’t understand how it is you could have seen me.  I spent the vast majority of my time in the Gallows.”

She smiled, “You did help the Champion become Viscount, sort of.  I’m pretty sure you were going to see him.  Though word on the street was he hated you just a little bit for throwing his sister into the Circle while he was in the Deep Roads.”

He chuckles, “People say that, but having me do it was way better than someone else.  Hawke understood, especially when he heard I shielded Bethany from Meredith’s madness.”

“Oooh.  You’ll have to tell me that story later.  Anyway, I saw you in Hightown walking up those big steps toward the Keep.  It was only for a moment, but I saw you.”

“Huh.  Crazy to think about how small this world really is.”  They step out of the trees into a flat, snow covered area.  There are animal tracks crisscrossing the whole thing.  It isn’t a large clearing, yet large enough to make decent sparring ring.  She takes the sword from her back and plunges it in the ground.  Cullen removes his own sword and leans it against a tree.  She runs out to the middle of the clearing.  He watches her spin in a circle, braid twirling behind her.  It starts to snow and it only adds to the beauty of the scene in front of him.

She suddenly points her wooden sword at him.  “You.  Here.  Now.”  He removes his mantle and lets it drop into the snow.  He straps the wooden shield to him arm and takes the wooden sword in his hand.  His eyes meet hers.  She readies herself, both hands on her weapon, the end brushing the snow.  She’s telegraphing her charge.  The way her feet square up and she leans forward ever so slightly.  He can see she’s hoping eye contact will throw him off.  He smirks at her.  Two can play that game.  He knows his years of experience are his advantage.  She is younger, perhaps much younger than him.  He’s had a sword in his hand for a very long time, the vast majority of his life in fact.  He’s plans on knocking this nobly trained woman on her ass.

He knows exactly when she’ll charge.  The exact distance away he’ll be from her.  And he is absolutely right.  She sprints toward him at full speed.  He side steps her, letting her blow right past him.  He jogs a short distance away and turns to face her.  He smirks again.  She charges.  He lets her make contact with his shield and he shoves it away from him, throwing her off balance.  Anger flares in her eyes.  She attacks.  He either dodges her swings or deflects them with his shield.  He hasn’t even raised his sword yet.  He waits for his opening.  She rears back to make an overhead strike.  He comes at her, thrusting his sword at her chest.  She jumps back and uses her downward swing to knock his sword away from her.

The dance begins.  They trade blows both deflecting the other.  He’s going to have to break of that telegraphing thing eventually.  He can predict every one of her moves.  He’s not even breaking a sweat.  Her breathing is heavy, sweat glistening on her face.  There is power in her swings.  And though he doesn’t feel like he’s working very hard, he knows his shield arm will be sore.  Then he sees his opening.  If this were a real battle, it would be the killing move.  He strikes, stopping his sword as it touches her neck.  She drops her practice sword in the snow.  She stands still, eyes locked with his.  There’s something behind her eyes he can’t place.

Then she drops to her knees and covers her face with her hands.  Sobs rise from deep within her chest.  She leans forward arms hugging her chest, her face in the snow.  He drops his sword and shield and falls to his knees in front of her.

He places a gloved hand on top of her head.  She reaches to him with one of her hands.  He grabs it.  She squeezes it and weakly pulls on it.  He runs his hand up her arm, drawing closer.  Her head now rests at his knees.  She grabs the side of his pants and holds on tightly.  The sobs shake her body.  He grabs her by shoulders, forcing her upright.  Then presses her to his chest and wraps his arms tightly around her.  She presses her face into his shoulder, her head tucked under his chin.  He moves one of his hands to the back of her head, holding her to him.  Her arms are still hugging her chest as she cries.

For the first time all day, the mark choices the moment to flare.  The physical pain mixing with her emotional.  Her arms shoot around him and she holds onto him for dear life.  Pressing her glowing palm into his back.  She cries out and the sound tears at Cullen’s soul.  He holds her tighter. 

She pushes back suddenly and starts clawing at her armor.  He moves her hands away, understanding what she wants.  He deftly removes the armor on her shoulders and then the breastplate.  Throwing them to the side.  She leans into him wrapping her arms tightly around him.  He picks her up slightly, scooping her closer.  Their knees are side by side on the ground.  He hugs her again as tightly as he can.

They sit that way for some time.  He doesn’t know or care how long.  All he knows is that the sun was only just beginning to set when they started sparring and it is pitch black now.  While she is still breathing heavy, her sobs have stopped.  She’s just sniffling now.  Her grip on him loosens and he loosens his.  She wipes her nose with her gloved hand and sits back on her knees.  Her cheeks are tear stained.  He takes her face in his hands and wipes her tears away.  She sniffles again.

“Thank you.”  Her eyes are closed, yet tears still fall.  “I think I really needed that.”

He shushes her.  “You don’t have to speak.”  His hands are gently cradling her jaw.  She places her hands over his.  She bites at her lower lips then licks them.  “You must be freezing.”

“You too, but… I don’t think…”  She moves to him again.  This time she wraps her arms around his neck.  He sighs and pushes her back.  She looks confused for a moment.  He removes the top part of his armor and opens his arms to her.  She launches forward wrapping her arms around his neck.  He warps arms tightly around her.  His nose resting against the side of her neck.

They hold that position as the second wave of tears come.  He can feel them drop onto the back of his neck.  His mind is blank.  His sole purpose is to hug her.  Comfort her.  Just be there for her.

Her tears slow to a stop and her grip loosens and he does the same in response.  She interlocks her fingers and places them on the back of his neck.  When her arms are fully extended, she looks into his eyes.  He wipes her tears away again.

His eyes stare into hers.  The color of warm honey.   He doesn’t speak, but she can see that his eyes are full of compassion, of concern, of questions.  She feels him shiver beneath her hands.  “You look cold.”

He nods.  “So do you.”  She removes her hands places them on his shoulder.  She presses down to help herself stand.  He stands with one hand at her waist.  Bracing her, just in case.  She’s suddenly very embarrassed by her uncontrolled outburst.  It wasn’t the Trevelyan way.  Checking that she can stand on her own, Cullen gathers up the discarded armor and weapons.  “Let’s get you somewhere warm.”

They walk in silence back to camp.  There is no one around.  They get to his tent and are about to walk past, when he sees the note has been amended.

 

_Commander,_

_Take your time.  We can start whenever she is ready._

_-L_

He removes that note and takes it with him.  He follows behind her to her cabin.  The streets are eerily clear.  Not even Varric is standing next to the fire.  She opens her door and leaves it open so he can come in.  She sits on her bed and removes the rest of her armor, while Cullen places the pieces of armor he has back in the chest.  He returns it to a fully upright position.  Kneeling on the ground next to it, he reaches out a hand towards her.  Understanding his meaning, she hands him her armor.  He closes the chest and stands.  He sits next to her on the bed.  She feels him laugh.

“What it is?”

“When did you get bathtub in here?”  She smiles.

“I asked Josie for one.”  She reaches back and pulls her braid forward.  She wrinkles her nose at it.  “I pretty sure I need one.”

“I know that Adan had someone clean you up after the Breach.  And I personally cleaned your marked hand, since no one was brave enough to touch it.  Your hair though,” He pushes a loose strand behind her ear.  “Probably hasn’t been clean since _before_ the conclave.”  She elbows him in the ribs.  He laughs.  “Not to upset you, but,” he presses the note into her hand.  “If you want me to go so that you can get ready, I can.  If you want me to say, I can do that too.  Whatever you need.” 

Her eyes focus in on the added part.  Her uncle.  “ _Right.  Shit.”_   She doesn’t want him to leave.  His presence there is soothing.  And now that he has seen her ugly cry, she considers him her friend.  Yet, she really needs to get ready.  Her uncle deserves that much.  She sighs.  “I really hate to ask you to leave.  I really don’t want you to.  But my uncle…”  He slowly stands.

“Say no more.  Meet me at my tent, when you are ready.  I’ll be waiting.”  She stands and hugs him again before he can react she lets him go. 

“I’m sorry.  But if you don’t go now…” He bends, scoops put his belongings, mantle, armor, weapons.  She goes to the door to open it for him.  “Thank you.”

He turns back and smiles, “Anytime.”  He turns and heads for the gate.  She waits until he is out of sight before closing the door.  As she prepares the bath, she smiles.  Though a nice warm bath is her first favorite place, she has a feeling that she might have added another to the list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving all the comments! Keep them coming!
> 
> UPDATED: July 19, 2018


	10. Open Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** same as always
> 
> Also... ::insert knowing smile here::

Shea stands drying her hair.  Remembering she has obligations tonight, she bathed just long enough to get clean.  A nice bath might help her control her emotions afterwards.  She sits at her desk and runs her fingers through her hair considering whether or not to put it up in its usual braided bun.  Looking over at the tub and knowing she’s about to get right back in it, she decides against it.  She runs a brush through the length of her hair to make sure it is free of tangles.  She makes two small braids, one of each side of her head that start at her temples.  She pulls them back and ties them together.  She leaves the rest of her long wavy hair to flow down her back.

She has laid out the two outfits she has on the bed, the blue embroidered tunic or her armor.  She twists her hair and pins it loosely on top of her head and starts putting on her armor.  When she gets to the breastplate, the shoulder guards are still attached.  “ _Ok.  Now how did he say to do this?”_   The thought of him makes her pulse quicken.  She summons the memory of that moment.  How intimate it felt to have him put on her armor.  Her hands move on their own, she imagines they are his hands, the idea makes her something deep inside her flutter.  Before she knows it, she gives a strap one final tug.  Her armor is on and she is breathless.

She pulls the pin from her hair and shakes it out.  The waves turned to curls as a result from drying while twisted.  She grabs the small mirror off the desk to look at herself.  Her cheeks are flushed, her hair cascades elegantly down her back, her armor making her look strong.  It is a nice effect.  She closes her eyes and centers herself.  Opening them she speaks to herself in the mirror.  ”Alright, Trevelyan.  You can do this.  Hold it in.  Be strong.”  She sets the mirror down.  She fills the pot over the fire with water from the bath and hangs it back on the hook in the fireplace.  She puts another log on the fire, just in case.  Checking herself over one last time, she leaves the cabin.

Haven is still very quiet.  Some people have emerged from their homes or tents and are walked towards the Chantry.  Varric is standing in his usual spot by the fire.  He whistles as she approaches, “You clean up nicely.  I was beginning to think all this stuff about you being noble was made up.”

“You should see me in a dress.”  She winks at him and continues.  She can hear him softly chuckling to himself.  She stops suddenly.  There are a lot of people outside the Chantry and she feels impossibly alone.  Cullen words creep back into mind, “I’ll be waiting.”  She turns back the way she came, passing Varric without a word, and pushing through the gates.

Cullen is sitting in his chair, holding a report but not really seeing it.  He has already put his armor back on and is waiting for her to come get him.  He was informed that everyone who wanted to be a part of the service would be meeting at the Chantry.  That same person proceeded to inform him that the people of Haven also consider this a moment to bid farewell to everyone else lost at the conclave.  Her uncle becoming another martyr for the cause.  How did saying goodbye to a loved one become such a spectacle? 

He slams the report on his desk and stands.  This is going to be hard enough on her without her every move being scrutinized.  He paces his tent with his hand on his hips.  A blur of movement catches his eye.  Then he feels a hard impact in his chest that makes him stagger.  The sound of metal hitting metal fills the air.  Panic rises in him for a moment, then her arms wrap tightly around him.  He is instantly calm when he realizes he isn’t being attacked.

He wraps his arms around her as she buries her face in the fur on his shoulder.  He takes in a deep breath of relief and the smell of her fills his lungs.  He closes his eyes and inhales again.  He was never very good at these kinds of descriptions.  She smells like a sun-bleached ship deck, the sun’s warm rays drying up the water making it smell crisp and clean.  She smells like sugar and cinnamon, rich and sweet.  He leans down, brushes her hair to the side, and nestles into the crook of her neck.  He inhales again.  He feels her laugh softly.  “What?” 

She moves back from him and smiles.  “You just smelled me.”

His cheeks redden and he rubs his neck.  “I… I was… Maker’s breath. I was just breathing.”  She brushes her gloved finger along his jawline send shockwaves through his body. 

He shivers and she smiles.  “You are a cruel, cruel woman.”

“I’m sorry.”  She hugs him again and backs away.  “You were waiting for me?”

He nods, “I must warn you.  There will probably be a larger turn out than you are expecting.  Regardless, this isn’t about anyone else.  Pretend they aren’t there.  I will be right by your side… If you want me to be…”

She breathes his name, “Cullen.”  They look away from each other at the same time.  “Thank you.  For being so supportive.  It’s not… not something I’m used to.”

He moves a step closer and takes her hand.  “I will always be here, whenever you need me.  And whenever you want to explain that last comment, I’ll be waiting.” 

She squeezes his hand.  “We should go before I lose my nerve.”  Still holding his hand, they leave the tent.  They walk together towards the gates.  They walk slowly.  The falling snow swirls around them.  When they arrive at the gates, she releases his hand and looks up at him.  She smiles as they make eye contact.  She reaches up and brushes the snow from his hair.  A blush raises in his face.  She looks down at her hands trying to steady herself.  “ _No emotion.  Stoic.  Strong.”_ She feels him brush the snow from her hair.  She sighs.  “Come on.”  They walk side by side to the Chantry.

Varric, still standing by his fire, has watched this whole exchange.  “ _What have you gotten yourself into now, Curly?”_   He shakes his hand and goes into his tent.

The Chantry is bustling with people, some of them are crying.  It makes Shea terribly uncomfortable.  All eyes are on her as she passes through the crowd.  She blinks and she finds herself following a Chantry sister swinging burning incense.  Cassandra and Cullen on either side of her, the whole town following behind them.  She blinks again and she is standing at the base of the pyre.  Her uncle laying on top of it.  People are mumbling prayers to the Maker and Andraste.  Someone presses lightly on her back, pushing her forward.  She mindlessly goes to stand beside her uncle.   She reaches forward and removes his armored glove.  She removes the signet ring and places into a pouch on her belt.  She returns the glove to his hand.  And backs away.  She blinks.  There is a torch in her hand.  She puts the torch in an empty space at the bottom of the stack of wood.  She turns, walks back down the hill, and reclaims her spot.  She watches her uncle burn.  She blinks.  She finds herself standing in her cabin.  Alone.

What just happened?  Was it over?  She places her hand on the pouch.  She feels that something is in it.  She takes out her uncle’s ring.  She walks over to her desk and sets it down next to some paper.  It reminds her she needs to write a letter to her family.  Tomorrow.  She opens her armor chest and puts the pieces inside.  The actions feel empty and automatic.  As she fold the pants, standing in her small cloths, her heart starts pounding suddenly.

 _Oh Maker.  Andraste.  Am I becoming my father?  Is this what all of us become?  No better than a Tranquil?  Void of all feeling?_   She rushes to the fireplace, jerks the boiling pot of the hook, and dumps the scolding water in to the tub.  It mixes with the soap and cold water that is already in it.  Still thick steam rises from the bubbly water.  She drops the pot on the ground, removes the rest of her clothes, and jumps into the water.  It is far too hot.  Not hot enough to burn her, but enough to turn her skin bright red.  She submerges her head and holds her breath. She stays under until she can’t hold her breath anymore.  Her head explodes from the water and she inhales deeply, gasping for air.

She slumps against the walls of the tub.  The hot water and lack of oxygen have thawed her out.  Tears well up in her eyes and she hugs her knees to her chest.  She lets it all go, all her control and composure.  Just like on the sparring field.  She allows herself to think of every single thing that has caused her pain since leaving Ostwick.  Forced to leave home.  Being tricked into thinking that was a good thing.  Never seeing Moira again.  Dumping the clothes of her past into the water below.  The face of the person she first killed.  Every face after that.  An explosion she was inside but didn’t see.  A prisoner.  Hated.  Demons.  This fucking mark on her hand.  Henry, her young templar friend, dead.  Her uncle dead.  Other distant relatives dead.  Her beloved horse, Penelope, dead.  Everyone dead.  Nothing and nowhere to call her own.

The sobs make it hard for her to breath.  Yet there is no sound.  Tears are steaming from her eyes and her chest heaves from the force of her sorrow, but not a single sound can escape her except her occasional gasps for air.  This is worse than in the sparring field.  A million times worse.  She is alone and has let go of all control.  She let her body and soul do what it wanted.  She is at the mercy of her emotions and her thoughts.  She doesn’t hear the soft knock on her door.  She can’t hear anything.  The world has gone dark and silent.

***

He went back to his tent to change into more comfortable clothes.  She had asked him to sit with her for a while before she went to bed.  Her voice sounded dead.  He had tried to hurry, but people kept coming up to him with reports and asking for orders.  This was turning out to be the longest day in his entire life.  He imagined it was for her too.  Waking up, finding out you’re the Herald of Andraste, helping start the Inquisition, meetings, sparring, her uncle.  It’s a lot to cram into one day. 

The moon is high overhead by the time he makes it to her door.  The town has long gone to sleep, fires burning low, snores drifting from open windows.  He feels like the only person awake for miles.  He gently taps on her door.  He doesn’t hear a response.  He taps again, a little louder.  Still nothing.  He slowly opens the door and peeks in his head.  His breath catches in his throat.

 _“Andraste preserve me.”_  He sees her sitting in a steaming bath with her back to the door.   “Maker!  I’m sorry.  I’ll come back.”  He starts to back out of the cabin to give her privacy.  Then his ears catch the ragged, stuttering breath her takes in.  Her whole body shaking with the effort.  He springs from his spot in the doorway, slamming it behind him.  He places a cool bare hand on the spot between her shoulder blades.  She gasps loudly.  He parts her wet hair and moves it to the side.  He squeezes the back of her neck.  He leans in close and whispers, “I’m here.”

She slowly uncoils her body, her wet hair falls to cover her breasts.  The rest of her is cover by the bath.  She turns slowly.  Her face is contorted in pain.  Her breathing heavy.  He places his other hand, still cold from being outside, against her cheek.  He watches as recognition floods her features.  She grabs the side of the tub fighting to pull herself to her knees.  She throws her wet arms around his neck and pulls him to her.  He inhales sharply.  His heart explodes in his chest.  He envelops her in his arms and rest his chin on top of her shoulder.

She nestles her nose into the crook of his neck and she struggles to breathe.  His tight grip around her chest and back makes it feel as if he is pulling her back together.  The images flee from her mind.  Her aching sobs quiet.  The tears slow, though they don’t stop.  She sniffles.  Her head clears.  Then panic takes sorrow’s place.  She tenses. 

“Are you alright?”  She nods.  Words would betray her.  She is wet and naked pressed against him with only, a now soaked, shirt and a tub wall between them.  “Uh… I’m not sure what do now.”

She hears the tremble in his voice.  He has had the same thought.  “Uh… there’s a… towel on the bed.”

“Ok.”  He takes a shaky breath.  “I will close my eyes and you go get it.”

She takes a deep breath.  “Sounds like a plan.  Are they closed?” 

He nods, “Yes.” 

She smiles against his neck.  “No peeking?” 

She feels him chuckle nervously, “You have my word.”  He places his hands on the edge of the tub in front of him.  She slowly loosens her hold on him.  Seeing that his eyes are squeezed shut, she carefully stands and tiptoes to the towel.  She watches him the whole time.  Her heart feels like it is about to pound straight out of her chest.  He stays as still as a statue.  His hands gripping the edge of the tub.  She dries her body and then wraps the towel around herself.

She reaches toward the bed for her nightclothes.  She groans.  They are sitting at the bottom of the Waking Sea.  “Is something wrong?”

She sighs again.  “A little bit.  I… uh… I don’t own any clothes.” 

He laughs.  “You don’t own clothes?  How is that even possible?  I’ve seen you in clothes.”

She runs her toe along a crack in the stone floor.  “Well.  When I cast off my old life, I literally cast if off… the side of a ship.” 

He doubles over in laughter.  “What would possess you to do that?”

“It sounds silly when I say it out loud!  I was raised a noble.  Then suddenly I was a templar recruit travelling with other templars on a ship for the first time ever bound for the conclave. Then some Orlesian nobleman hit on me while I was trying to saddle my own horse, again for the first time ever, and it hit me that I was still dressed as a noble woman.  Which means a dress.  The smallest templar gave me some clothes to borrow, which were still too big for me, and as a symbolic gesture...”

“You tossed all of your old, expensive clothes into the Waking Sea?”  He laughs again.

She blushes.  “Stop laughing at me.  I’m having a real problem here.  Unless you never want to open your eyes again.”

Fighting off his laugher, he waves his hand, “I’m sorry.  It’s just… sorry.”  He takes a deep breath.  He thinks for a moment.  Feeling the wet shirt against his skin, he gets an idea.  She watches him feel along the neckline of his shirt looking for the tie.

“Whoa!  Hold on there!  What in the Maker’s name are you doing?” 

He sighs and tugs on the sting.  “It’s already wet and you need something to wear.”  He grabs the neck of his shirt and pulls up.  Her eyes are glued his skin as his back is slowly revealed.  She feels her forehead to see if she is sweating.  His back is muscular, his skin lightly tanned.  There are a few scars as well.  One hand reaches out to touch him and the other hand forces it back down.  He extends his muscled arm back to her, shirt in hand.  His arms and shoulders are thick and muscular as well.  She just sits and stares at the bare back and shoulders of the god in front of her.

“Shea?”  He shakes the shirt in his hand.  “You’re going to have to take it from me.  Can’t see remember.”

She sighs, “Hmm… what?!” 

He can feel her eyes on him and his checks redden.  “The… uh… shirt.”

She bolts off the bed.  “Oh!  Right!  Right.”  She snatches his shirt away and pulls it over her head.  She checks to see that she is covered.  The shirt falls to about mid-tight, covering everything there.  She tightens the laces at the neck.  “ _Check.  Sleeves are a bit long and… oh god it smells like him.”_   Leather, sweat, campfire smoke, and musk.  She presses the sleeve to your face and inhales.  “ _Yeah, he’s not getting this back.”_   She composes himself.  “Ok.  It’s safe.”  He takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, and stands.  When he turns to face her, she bites her lip.  Feeling self-conscious, he rubs his neck.

Shea has never felt like this her entire life.  She’s never had a boyfriend or a lover.  It’s very hard to have a love life when you are promised to the Chantry from birth.  She’s seen boys she’s found attractive, maybe even kissed one, but this is no boy.  A perfectly sculpted man.  His blonde chest hair calling to her to touch it.  She feels guilty for looking at him this way.  She knows it’s written all over her face.  She couldn’t even claim that what she is feeling is love.  It is lust, desire, hunger.  There is no doubt in her mind.

He folds his arms over his chest to block her view snapping her back to the here and now.  Her whole face instantly turns bright red and she looks away from him.  “I am _so_ sorry.  I… This has been one hell of a day.”  She sits on the bed and covers her face with her hands.  Her shame at ogling him like a piece of meat and the sadness she was feeling before mix.  She lets the tears fall into her hands.

He watches her cry unable to move. Roots growing from the soles of his boots holding him in place.  He wants to go to her, hold her in his arms, but he’s worried.  Though trying to not look anywhere but her face, he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting south while she stood.  He could see more of her than she thought.  His white shirt clinging to her, slightly transparent from it being wet.  His eyes follow along the outline of her breasts.  Her nipples pressing against the fabric.  He is actually a little relieved when she covered face to cry.  Her arms blocking his view.

He feels his desire to put his mouth all over her picking at his brain.  He shakes his head, squeezing the bridge for his nose.  He is her friend.  She has said as much.  She needs him to be that, nothing more.  He will not allow himself to give in, not matter how badly he ached for it.  He manages to break free of the roots and slowly walks over to her.  He sits on the bed next to her.  He gently runs his fingers through her tangled wet hair.  She sighs.  He stops for a moment trying to decide if he should continue with the action.

He kicks off his boots and scoots back on the bed.  He moves behind her.  Convincing himself that this is task is completely innocent and runs his fingers through her hair again.  Chills run up her spine and she lets out a breathy sigh.  Starting at the ends and working his way up, he works to clear every tangle.  When he finishes, she stands and goes to the desk.  She sits in the chair and quickly ties her hair back at the nap of her neck.

Her skin is on fire.  She knows he wasn’t trying to affect her like this, but it felt so good.  When she turns back, Cullen is laying on his back staring at the ceiling.  “What are you thinking?”

He moves his head to look her.  “You.”

“What about me?”

He sighs and returns his gaze to the ceiling.  “I was thinking about…”  He stops closing his eyes.  He can’t put the feelings for her into words.  “I’ve only just met you.”

She stands and goes to sit next to him.  “Yes.  At least officially.”

“It’s… over whelming.  I try to be a professional.  No let my personal life or past interfere with my work and the work we have to do.  I try to be strong and supportive.  And…” She places her hand on his chest and he covers her hand with his.  “I find myself drawn to you.  Like a moth to the flame.”

She sighs.  “I feel the same.  And I understand the need to serve, to… to distance myself from whatever pain I might feel inside.  To not let whatever might be going on outside of my duty impact the work that must be done.  You can see how well that worked.  You are right though.”

He opens his eyes and sits up.  He leans against the headboard of the bed.  “Right about what exactly?”

She looks down at the mark on her hand.  “Andraste’s chosen or not.  I have an important job to do.  I shouldn’t allow my feelings distract me.  No matter how much I ache to let it.  It’s a sacrifice we have all made.  Every single member of this Inquisition has committed themselves to this cause.  And…”

He places a finger against her lips.  “You don’t need to say any more.  I will always be your friend and when everything becomes too much to handle, like today, I will always be here.  A shoulder to cry on.  A shield to hit.  Someone you can talk to without fear of judgement.  I will always listen.”  He pulls her to his chest.  Hugging her.  She snakes her arms around his ribs.

They slowly separate.  He goes to stand.  “Are you leaving?” 

He sighs.  “I…”  He knows he should leave now while his will is stronger.

She swallows a lump in her throat.  “If you want… need to leave, I understand.”  His will shatters and he pulls back the covers on the bed and settles in, laying on his back.  He holds them up for her.  She lays down next to him on her side.  He covers her up.  He lifts his arm freeing up his side.  She takes this as an invitation and snuggles in beside him.  She rests her head on his chest and wraps his arm around her.  She sets her marked hand on his chest, muffling the green light.  She is the first to fall asleep.  He looks down at her peaceful face and smirks.  His kisses her forehead, places his free hand on top of hers, and closes his eyes.  His blissful half smile still on his face as he drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! I certainly enjoyed writing it!
> 
> UPDATED: July 19, 2018


	11. Sway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this really quickly between classes. So, I apologize for any errors. Plan on checking it later tonight.
> 
> *** time/perspective shift

A human woman with short blonde hair walks toward him out of the darkness.  Her piercing green eyes gazing into his.  She smiles coyly at him.  His pulse quickens.  She is wearing purple and green robes.  Mage robes.  She is young, maybe 17.  She leans down and kisses him softly.  “Don’t be afraid.”

He hears his voice from far away, “I’ve never done this before.”  She kisses him again.  “Won’t we get in trouble?”

She smiles pressing her head against his forehead.  “Everyone is asleep.  Plus I sealed the door.”  She wiggles here fingers at him.  The tips glowing white.  She smiles.  She releases the magic into the air, the little orbs of white light creating stars around the room.  She reaches for his hands.  He places them in hers.  She uses his hands to unbutton the front of her robes.  He swallows hard.  She lets go of his hands, leaving him to finish the unbuttoning by himself.  She lets the robes slip from her shoulders.

He gasps as she stands naked before him.  She has come prepared.  She takes his hands, making him stand.  His heart is beating like a humming bird’s wings.  She places his hands on her breasts.  He doesn’t know what to do, he just holds them.  She runs her hand down his bare chest, slowly trailing south.  She kisses him again and this time he kisses back.  Their mouths moving together.  She slips her hand down front of his pants and into his small cloths.  She rubs her hand up and down the length of him.  He leans his head back closing his eyes.

She grabs his chin and forces him to look at her.  A sly smile crosses her face.  She kisses his lips.  Then his neck, then his chest, and then just above his navel.  She removes his clothes, kissing his hip bone.  She looks up at him.  His face is red and sweaty.  He groans as she takes him into her mouth.

The world tilts and he is shoved backward.  He falls for what feels like an eternity before impacted the cold, stone floor.  The white orbs above him pulsating.  They swell in size blinding him in the darkness.  Cold water starts to fill the room, seeping through the stones below him.  He tries to stand, but he can’t move.  Her face enters his view again.  She kisses him roughly.  When she pulls away, her features morph before him.  A demon.  Her body is purple and naked, eyes blood red, horns replacing her hair.  The embodiment of desire.  She runs her sharp nail down his check.

“No.  No!  Leave me!”  He struggles against her touch.  She smiles at him.

“Does this look not please you anymore?”  Her features start to shift.

“No.  Don’t.  You can’t have her too!”  He thrashes and squeezes his eyes closed.  “You can’t take her from me too.”

“How painful was it when Danielle Amell came to save you?  The Hero of Ferelden.  Your first love.  Did you see my face looking into hers?”  She grabs him by the throat.  “I will not be denied my pet.  I will have what I want again.  You can’t keep her safe inside your mind forever.”  She slaps him hard across the face.

Cullen’s eyes shoot open and he abruptly sits up.  He is sweating and out of breath.  Shea is kneeling on the bed beside him.  Her hand presses firmly, but gently on his chest.  She makes him lay back down.  He grabs her hand and squeezes tightly.

Shea was sound asleep having a very good dream when he started talking, almost shouting, in his sleep.  She tried to wake him and couldn’t.  She had to watch as something tormented him in his mind. Now that he is awake, she watches him still.  He tries to push the images from his mind.  “I’m alright.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”  He shakes his head.  “Whenever I had a nightmare, it used to help me to talk about.”

He meets her eyes.  “I… can’t.  Talking about them makes them real.  They are of a different life.  One I would like to leave in the past.”

“Alright.  If you ever change your mind…”

“I won’t.”

She pulls her hand away from him.  “Did I do something wrong?”

He sits up, “No.  Why?”

She stands and moves away from him.  “You’re being short with me.  I understand you didn’t sleep well, that you had a nightmare.  But am I not allowed to help you the way you help me?”

He looks over to the window, it is still dark out.  “I’m sorry.  I’m not good at this.  I keep people at arm’s length.  Even my siblings.”  He stands up and goes to her.  He grabs her shoulders.  “I really am sorry.  Did I mention I’m also not a morning person?  So Marker help you if we ever do this again I have a nightmare and its morning.”  He smirks at her.

“No.  I should be sorry.  I’m just tired.”

He leads her to the bed.  “Then go back to sleep.  I’m sorry I woke you.”

She laughs, “We sure have apologized a lot in the last few minutes.”

She climbs into the bed and lies on her back.  He lays down beside her.  He rolls onto his side she looks over at him.  She turns over to face him fully.  She lifts her chin and opens her arm.  He nestles into the crook of her neck and wraps his arms around her waist.  She encircles him with hers.  They lay there a while and she waits from him to fall asleep.  When he doesn’t, she runs her fingers through his hair, starting low on his neck and moving up.  He moans and snuggles closer to her.  She continues on repeat until soft snores escape from his mouth.  She smiles and then falls asleep with him in her arms.

***

When Shea wakes, the sun is pouring in her window.  And she is alone.  She looks around and there is a note next to her head.  She sits up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.  She grabs the note and reads:

_Shea,_

_I am sorry to have to leave.  I would still be beside you if I could, yet duty calls.  I have a thousand things to do as always._

_There is a meeting this afternoon.  I had them push the morning one back so you could sleep._

_Keep the shirt.  A gift from me.  I have others._

_You should take it easy today.  Get to know the people you will be traveling with._

_You know where I’ll be if you require anything._

_-Cullen_

She folds the note and sets in on the nightstand.  She feels sore from all the crying and the sparring.   She takes one of flanks Varric left for her and coughs it down.  She hops off the bed.  The movement stirs his scent into the air, making her feel light.  The potion probably doesn’t help with that sensation.  She sits at her desk and puts her hair into her usual braided bun.  She spots her uncle’s ring on the desk next to some blank pieces of paper.  What does she even write?

 _“Well, father needs one.  It’ll go with the ashes.  My brothers, of course.  Moira.”_   She couldn’t think of anyone else.  Her father’s should be the easiest as it will be the most formal.  She grabs the quill and dips it in the ink.  She writes,

_To be delivered directly to Bann Atwood Trevelyan with the accompanying parcel:_

_Father,_

_First and foremost, I am alive.  I am unsure whether anyone has told you that.  A few updates are in order I suppose.  I have joined the Inquisition as I am the only person in all of Thedas who can close the rifts. Please notify the Inquisition if people are in danger of being harmed by rifts and we will do our best to help.  That could take some time, so if people are in real danger, relocate them for their safety._

_The primary purpose of this letter is to inform you that Knight-Captain Hayden Trevelyan died inside the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  I was able to identify his body and he is now seated beside the Maker having received his proper rites.  I have carried on our family traditions as you would have wanted.  Accompanying this missive are the ashes of your dear brother along with his signet ring._

_The Herald of Andraste, your daughter,_

_Shea Trevelyan_

 

She is surprised at her closing.  It was automatic.  Maybe she did believe after all.  She sets the paper aside to dry and starts the next letter:

 

_Brandon,_

_I’m alive.  Don’t ask what happened I don’t remember it.  They say I’m the Herald of Andraste.  I have apparently chosen to believe it.  I am the sole survivor of the conclave.  It’s overwhelming.  Uncle Hayden is dead.  I gave him his rites myself.  That was hard._

_I have joined the Inquisition.  I know you will worry.  Don’t.  I promise you I’m fine.  Give my regards to mother.  Miss you._

_Your sister,_

_Shea_

She continues to her next letter:

_Em,_

_I know you’ve been worried.  You always do.  I am alive and well in Haven.  I am with the Inquisition as an equal and not a prisoner anymore.  Thank the Maker.  Our uncle died in the temple and I managed to do our nearly impossible family rites.  He is with the Maker now._

_Have you heard of someone called the Herald of Andraste?  Well, that’s me.  I’m her.  I don’t know what stories you’ve heard, but I’m sure by the time they get to you they are far grander than the truth._

_How’s your courting of Moira going?  She hit you yet?  If so, that’s a good sign.  I promise._

_Miss you._

_Your sister,_

_S_

She sighs.  Last one.  The hardest and probably the longest.

 

_Moira,_

_This sucks.  I mean really sucks.  I’m going to attempt to make the bad shit short._

_Well, I guess first thing is, I’m alive.  Yay._

_Ok quick version.  Went to Kirkwall.  Met some templars.  Sailed on an actual fucking ship.  Got new clothes, drowned the old ones. Fought in a real battle.  Killed people.  Hated it.  Saw Temple.  Boom.  Everyone died, except me.  Prisoner. Fought demons.  Sealed some rifts.  Met a guy (I’ll come back to this one.)  More demons. Fixed the big one (not sure if you can see it from Ostwick.)  Nearly died, again.  Became Herald of Andraste.  Slept for 3 days.  Formed the Inquisition.  Made some friends.  Burned my uncle.  Finally had a real bath.  Spent night with guy (Again coming back to this I promise.)  Wrote letters.  That’s pretty much it._

_How’s Emeric? Hit him yet?_

_Ok. So this guy.  He is gorgeous.  I saw him once in Kirkwall way back when.  Used to be Knight-Commander after that crazy bitch turned into a glowing statue.  I could probably go on and on and on about him.  His eyes.  His smell.  Those muscles.  But that’s all just physical stuff.  He’s kind.  Smart.  Strong.  Gentle.  Deeply caring.  I don’t know.  He’s so many things._

_We met on a battle field fighting a hoard of demons.  I saved him from getting hit in the back.  Then the demon shoved be back and I ran into him.  Our eyes met over our shoulders.  His are like warm honey.  And he has this smirk.  Ugh.  Swoon._

_He’s seen me cry.  Don’t get mad.  Refer to bad stuff.  It was ugly crying too.  He gives the most amazing hugs.  He’s also a great cuddler.  Biggest problem though is that he commands the Inquisition’s forces.  We’re both apart of the inner circle.  Well, the inner circle and the war council.  Which are almost the same thing.  Anyway, it would never work.  We both like sacrificing our own happiness for the sake of duty.  Sigh._

_I wish you were here.  Well, maybe not.  It’s dangerous and crazy here.  Maybe once this is all over?  Write me back.  Have Emeric or Brandon help you send it.  It’ll get to me faster._

_Your friend,_

_Shea_

She drops the quill, surprised when I doesn’t burst into flames.  She’s never written so fast in all her life.  She leaves the letters sitting on the desk to dry. 

Taking a page from her commander, she opts to wear her armor.  She plans on doing that every day.  Because you never know.  The day passes swiftly.  She chats and has a few drinks with Varric.  She discusses the Fade with Solas.  She talks about nobles and family connections with Josephine.  She stops Leliana from killing someone and discusses faith, religion, and the Hero of Ferelden. 

This is the moment she realizes she is _the_ Sister Nightingale from the books she’s read.  Leliana loves to tell her stories, all bards do, and they spend hours talking about her adventures and what The Warden was like.  Shea learns a few thing they left out of the books.  Her name is Danielle Amell.  She lived in Kinloch Hold before she was conscripted, meaning she was a mage.  Which also means that a mage is Queen of Ferelden.

Leliana smiles, “It’s all very hush hush.  She’s a good ruler and loves her king.  She saved Ferelden.  Anyone one who knows has gone to great lengths to keep it secret.  King Alistair doesn’t care though.  He will protect her no matter what happens.  True love.”  She sighs happily.  “Speaking of love?  How did you sleep?”

Shea blushes, “Oh no you don’t.  You aren’t going to mess with me like you do him.”

“I’m not messing with you.  I’m serious.  One of my spies saw him enter your cabin late last night and leave, shirtless, in the early hours of the morning.”

The blush deepens, “You have spies watching me?”

She smiles, “I have spies watching everything.  But don’t worry, what people do in the privacy of their own quarters is none of my business.”

“You were just sleeping!”  People turn to look at her.  Leliana starts laughing.  “So he stammers and you lash out.  Good to know.”

“You… ugh.”  Shea leaves.  Time to hit things.  She strides right up to Cassandra, “Tired of hitting dummies yet?”

Cassandra sees the look on her face and laughs.  “Leliana got to you didn’t she?  She really knows how to push your buttons.  And yes.  Are you offering an alternative?”

Shea thinks for a moment.  “You could always use more fur and meat right?”  Cassandra nods.  “Well, then.  Feel like hunting?  I think I know where some ram and druffalo hang out.”

Cassandra smiles, “Hitting and killing?  This should be fun.”  Cassandra picks up her shield and they head off into the woods.

***

Cullen has been training men all morning.  They are improving and more keep showing up every day.  He has been working harder than normal to keep his mind busy.  It isn’t working, because why would it.  As he watches two the more advanced recruits spar, he starts to feel a little off.  He catches a glimpse of Cassandra and Shea disappearing into the trees.  He smiles.  She took his advice.  He returns his attention back to the fight.

“Use the shield.  Don’t just hold it.”  He trades places with one of them men.  “Watch.  Come at me.”  The man swings his sword down.  He blocks it with the shield and pushes away, causing the solider to stumble.  “Redirect an attacker by using his force against him.  Leaving you an opening.”  He catches the solider with his sword behind the knee, causing him to fall.  He extends his hand and helps him up.  “Take turns trying that.  The shield is more than just defense.  It can be used to aid your offense.  Take it slow.  Really study your movements.  Focus on nothing but what is happening around you.  Be aware of your surroundings, but never forget that the person trying to kill you is often right in front of you.”  They continue practicing, feeling motivated.  “Good!  Keep going until you’ve both mastered that.  I’ll be back.”

He walks around through his men offering advice and encouragement.  Rylen comes up to him.  “Ser.  If I may?”  He nods, “I think I have an idea to further boost morale.”

“I’m listening.”

“A real sparring match.  We set it up tournament style.  One on one, last man standing gets to challenge you.”

Cullen thinks about it for a moment.  “Set it up.  We’ll do it after my meeting.”  Rylen solutes and goes over to some officers.  They let out a cheer and go to setup a ring and get a signup sheet going.  He suddenly feels light-headed.  He presses on the bridge of his nose.  He feels nauseous.  He goes into his tent and sits in his chair.  He holds his head in his hands, his elbows on the desk.  Eventually, the feeling passes.  He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.  Jim enters to summon him to the meeting.  He waves him off and sits a little longer.  He hears peals of laughter echo as Cassandra and Shea pass his tent.  He figures that’s his cue as they are probably headed towards the meeting. 

***

“Who knew druffalo were so hard to take down?  I was not expecting them to fight back.  Their normally so peaceful.”  Shea has a blood smear on his face.  Cassandra laughs.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.  It was definitely fun fighting beside you without demons around.”

“Ugh.  Fuck demons.  They ruin everything.”  They continue to laugh and talk all as they walk.  Cassandra is in such a good mood, she actually waves at Varric as they pass him.  They both laugh as a slightly scared look crosses his face as he slowly waves back.

Travel plans are made. They leave for Redcliffe in the morning.  They will try to help the refugees while they are there and maybe go to the village is visit the mages.  Cullen informs them about the sparring tournament his men have set up.  Inquisition forces only.  They are all welcome to watch.  The winner will fight him in single combat.  Josephine thinks if they beat him there should be some sort of prize.  He’ll leave that up to her.  The meeting breaks and he heads back to the gates.

Shea watches him leave.  She has some family business to handle or she’d be walking beside him.  She noticed he looked a little pale.  She hopes he was alright.

With her letters and her uncle’ ashes in the hands of Leliana’s fastest scout, she and the rest of the council head for the tournament.  Varric is already there taking bets.  Solas is watching from the steps outside the gate.  The battle is already raging between two young soldiers.  Everyone is cheering and jeering, some even coaching from the sidelines.  She smiles.  She finally feels like Haven is home.  She pictures the sparring matches between her brothers.  Her matches with various teachers.  The occasional secret matches with her brothers in the dead of night away from prying eyes.  The feeling she had during her first victory.  Time flies by.  She is really enjoying herself.  Cheering with everyone else.  Giving pointers to someone before they go in the ring, then screaming as they win.  Someone brings out ale and now there’s drinking and laughter.  Lysette, the templar, wins it all.  Shea goes over to her.

“Herald.  You honor me.”  Shea smiles at her.

“I came to give you a few tips for fighting the commander.”

“He is a very capable fighter.  He’ll be tough to beat.”

Shea leans in closer and whispers, “Wear out his shield arm.  When he swings at you dodge, don’t use your shield.  It’ll piss him off that you have one but don’t use it.”

“I will try that.  Thank you, Herald.”  She salutes and goes to take her place.  Shea leans against the makeshift railing and makes eye contact with Cullen.  He can see the mischievousness in her eyes.  She smiles widely.  _What has she done?_   He shakes his head.  _Focus on the fight.  Lysette is a templar.  Sword and shield.  Templars love their shields.  She is skilled, looks casual. Should be very little signs of her plan.  Circle her and wait.  She will attack first._

He’s right as always.  Yet something is different.  She hammers down on his shield.  It vibrates his whole arm.  _She’s aiming for it.  I’m going to have be more offensive_.  He strikes and she side steps it.  Shield at her side.  _Why even have a shield if…?  Shea.  This is what she did.  How do I combat this?  Is it against the rules to change weapons?_   He scans the ring around them, while blocking more heavy attacks.  He finds Shea smiling at him.  She is wearing her sword, but he doesn’t want to kill Lysette.  _Maybe I don’t have to change weapons.  Cassandra sometimes uses her normal sword with two hands.  I’ve watched her enough to pick up a few things._

As Lysette makes contact with his shield, he pushes back.  She staggers.  He stands up straight.  She circles and he counters.  They stop and he smirks.  Casting his shield to the side.  Everyone gasps.  Shea straightens, _“But he loves his shield?”_   Lysette tries to analyze his actions.  To throw her off more, he unclasps his mantle and tosses it onto the railing.  More gasps.  He grips his sword with both hands.  Cassandra breaks the silence with a cheer.  The crowd joins back in with renewed interest.

Cullen shuts out the noise, focusing on his target.  _You’re shield’s up now, isn’t it?_   He charges, as his sword bounces off her shield, he elbows her in the back, sending her stumbling forward.  _And repeat._ _She’s tired.  A few quick lashes ought to do it._  He brings his sword down her at an angle she has to block with her sword.  He comes up from the bottom and her shield goes flying.  Swinging his hand out disarms her sword arm.  He pauses.  She kneels before him in defeated.  The crowd’s cheers are deafening.

He reaches do to help Lysette up.  He smiles at her, “Well fought, Lys…”  He sways.   He is suddenly very dizzy. 

“Commander?  Ser?”

Then a few drops of blood drip from his nose.  He touches it with his gloved hand.  _“Well.  Shit.”_ His sword drops to the ground.  Shea vaults over the railing.  He vaguely sees her rushing toward him as the world goes dark.  She can’t make it.  She watches his head smack against the hard ground.  Red mixing with blonde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I welcome any and all comments!
> 
> UPDATED: July 19, 2018


	12. Feeling Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this in the time between classes. Apologies for any errors. I will come back tonight to look it over.
> 
> ***perspective/time shift

Shea sits in a chair beside his sick bed in the Chantry.  Both Solas and Adan are bent over him.  Adan is pressing a cloth to the back of his blonde head, attempting to stop the bleeding.  Solas is using some sort of magic to find out what happened.  She starts to get up.  Solas shoots her a frustrated look, “Herald, if you insist on being in this room.  Then you must sit.  If you want to pace, go outside.”  She slumps back into the chair.

She closes eyes and rests her elbows on her knees.  Not knowing what else to do, she clasps her hand together and press them against her forehead.  “ _Maker, please.  Let him be ok.  We… I need him.  I know we don’t speak much, but Andraste… well, I don’t know if she chose me, but if she did, it was for a reason.  That man keeps me sane.  I need him.”_

She looks over to the bed.  Adan has rolled Cullen to his side, holding his head still while Solas uses more magic on him.  Solas grunts, “He’s fighting it.  How can an unconscious man fend off anything?”  Shea stands and peaks over his shoulder.  The magic flowing from him doesn’t look hostile.  Maybe a templar would know.

“Would it help to ask a templar?  And do you need lyrium?”  Solas releases the magic and Adan resumes applying pressure. 

The elf slumps in the chair.  “Yes, to both questions.  Whatever is blocking me is powerful.  Or stubborn.  It’s hard to say which.”  Shea nods and flings open the door.  The guard outside stands at attention.  “Bring me the most experienced templar we have and a few bottles of lyrium.  Now!”  He salutes and rushes from the Chantry.  “Has it slowed at all?” 

Adan shakes his head.  “I’ve tried everything I know how to do.  It’s not much I’m afraid.  That’s why we’re trying to use magic.”

She sighs. “Well, we can at least try to make him more comfortable.”  She starts removing his armor.  “We’ll need something to cover him with.”  Adan points to some a pile of sheets.  “Well, that’ll have to do for now.”  As she removes pieces of armor, she passes them to Solas, who places them on the other bed.  She cheeks flush as she undoes his belt.  Pushing her thoughts aside as she continues to work.  She must remain professional.  He is hurt and she is helping.  She has to work around Adan to get his shirt off without disrupting him or disturbing Cullen’s head.  Somehow they manage.  She pulls off each of his boots and each of his socks.  Then hesitates. 

Just the pants left.  “ _Professional.  Stay professional.  Solas is watching.”_  She kneels beside him and touches his waist band.  She unties the laces that hold them tight.  She swallows hard.  “ _Please be wearing underwear.  Or this whole thing is about to get WAY more awkward than it already is._ ”  She slowly eases the waist of his pants past his hips.  She lets of a sigh of relief.  _“Well, at least, I can still be surprised by that at a later date.”_ She shocks herself with the thought.

Then the struggle to actually remove the pants begins.  They won’t come off because his weight is resting on them.  She tries to work them down but his ass keeps stopping the progress.  She goes to the foot of the bed and grabs the pants by the ankles.  She tugs.  Nothing.  Getting an idea, she grabs his ass and lifts with one hand and pulls with the other.  _“Don’t think about how firm his ass is.  Don’t think about his ass at all.”_ She sets him down.  She hears Solas chuckling and throws the pants at his head.  Which only makes him laugh more.  “At least, I see why you have your nickname.”  She grabs a sheet of the stack and covers him up.  She folds the top half down so that his chest is exposed.  _“Don’t pet the chest hair.  Just go... find that guard.”_   She flings open the door to see a stunned Rylen standing their mid-knock.  He has bottles of lyrium in his hands.  “Those go to the elf.”

She goes to stand over Adan.  “Has it…”  He stands.  “Alright.  Out!  Get out!  If you aren’t providing medical care, then get out.”  He shoos her out the door and slams it closed.  She paces in front of it.  When it doesn’t open again, she crosses the hall and leans on the wall across from it.  _The bleeding won’t stop.  Magic isn’t working.  Please don’t die.  What happened to you?_ She slides down the wall and sits on the floor.  She hugs her knees to chest resting her forehead on top of them.  She closes her eyes.

***

The door opens and she jumps up.  Rylen exits.  “Well?!”

“We managed to stop the bleeding.  It seems that there was an annulment spell cast on him.  It isn’t something he could have done himself.  It would have deactivated when he was knocked out.  If he had gone to sleep of his own free will, it might have held, but not with a blow to the head like that.  Once I removed it, Solas was able to magically stich the wound.”

She sighs, “So no more bleeding?”

“As far as I can tell, no.  I’ve been sent to get Cassandra.  Her skills as a Seeker will be more use than mine.”

“Ok.  Go then.  And thank you for the update.”

He solutes, “Herald.”  He walks quickly through the Chantry.  She slides back down the wall.  She closes her eyes.  Then she feels someone shake her.  It’s Cassandra.  “Herald, why don’t you go back to your cabin and sleep?  I can have someone get you when he wakes.” She rubs her eyes.

“Was I asleep?  I only blinked for a second.  Have you been in there yet?”

Cassandra sits next to her on the floor.  “I have.  I’ve sent Solas and Adan away.  I know what’s wrong with him.  I cannot tell you.  It is his secret to keep.  Be patient with him.  He will tell you in time.  Now, he just needs to rest.”

“Is it serious?  This thing you can’t tell me?”

“Yes.  But I still won’t tell you.  Cullen was a very talented templar.  Rylen was wrong.  He did cast the annulment on himself.”

Shea looks over at her.  Her concern showing clear as day.  “Why would he do that?”

Cassandra sighs, “The short answer is to protect his mind.  For the long answer, you will have to ask him.”  She stands and offers a hand to Shea.  She takes it and stands.  “He will be alright.  Now, get some rest.  We leave for Redcliffe at dawn.”  Not waiting for a response, Cassandra leaves. 

Shea follows her at a distance.  Once she is sure Cassandra can’t see her or her cabin, she sprints.  She bursts into her cabin, grabs his shirt, and sprints back.   She is breathless when she closes the door to his room.  She takes a few moments to catch her breath, then turns and locks the door.  She sets the shirt on his bed.  She walks to the other bed and neatly organizes his armor.  She then removes all of her armor and organizes it next to his.  She removes the band around her breasts and sticks it in her boot.  She picks up his shirt and puts it on.  She climbs in to the bed next to him and wraps her arms gently around him.  Her heart hurts that he doesn’t hug her back.  She rests her head on his chest and strokes the hair.  He moves slightly at her touch and she smiles against him.  _“Just two days and we’ve already slept together twice.  Better enjoy this now.  You won’t be seeing him for at least two weeks.”_   The amount of time hurts.  It will probably be longer.  Travel time, relief efforts, trying to secure horses, mage/templar bullshit, and other factors.

She looks up at his face.  He is still pale.  She gently lifts his head to check his wound.  It’s covered with a bandage that is wrapped around his head.  There doesn’t appear to be blood.  She sets his head back on the pillow and rests her head on his chest again.  She pulls his arm around her lacing her fingers with his to hold it there.  She closes her eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and falls asleep.

***

Loud knocking on the door wakes her.  She groans.  More persistent knocking.  “Go away.”  More knocking.  She shifts and arms tighten around her holding her in place.  Their positions have shifted in the night.  She is on her back now.  He is on top of her, him arms wrapped tightly around her waist.  His face nestled against her chest.  She lightly runs he fingers threw his hair.  He moans, still fast asleep.

More loud knocking, followed by an anger voice, “Herald!  Are you in there?  We must leave soon!”  She groans and looks over at the window.  It’s still dark.

“Go away!” 

She hears Cassandra growl.  “Open this door!”

“Not a chance.  We’ll leave later.”

“We must…”

“I said later!”  Cullen moves against her.  She stays completely still and quiet.  After a few seconds, she hears loud footsteps storm away from the door.  She smiles.  _“Can’t leave without the Herald can you?”_   She resumes playing with his hair.  He moans into her chest.  She lightly lifts the bandage on the back of his head.  A faint pink line crosses it, but there is no blood.  She moves it back into place.  She looks down at his face.  The scar on his mouth is pointed up.  She slowly traces her finger along it.  Then brushes it across his lips.

He opens his mouth and turns his head.  His nose brushes across one of her nipples.  She gasps and grabs his hair.  He moans again.  His head moves again bringing his nose back across her breast.  She moans and wraps he legs around his waist.  She has never felt like this before.  Her nipples are erect and she feels warm in places.  Her pulse races and she is breathing quickly.  He stirs again.  His whole body moving against hers.  She grabs his shoulders.  She throws her head back on the pillow as a moan escapes her lips.  She closes her eyes.  He moves again, pressing his body against hers.

She tries to stop him from moving his head as his nose continues to tease her with each movement.  She places her hands on each side of his face.  She feels his head lift.  She open her eyes and looks down at him.  His warm golden eyes are shining up at her.  He pulls one hand out from under her and brushes loose strands of hair from her face.  She closes her eyes again.  Her breath shaky.  He brushes his fingers down her check. He traces her jawline.  She lets her head fall back on the pillow.  He touches her lips.  She shifts beneath him and her legs squeeze his waist.

He wants her.  More than he’s ever wanted anything.  He doesn’t know what’s making him so bold and in this moment he does not care.   He lets his fingers continue their journey.  Back against her jaw.  Slowly down her neck.  She grabs onto his arms.  He pauses as her traces her clavicle.  He looks up at her again.  She is biting her lip, soft moans rolling up from deep inside her. 

He starts to second guess himself.  He whispers her name, “Shea?”  She sighs happily.  “Shea?  Look at me.”  She slowly opens her eyes.  The deep ocean pools sparkling into his.  She can’t speak, she’s forgotten how.  “Do you want me to stop?”  She gently shakes her head.  Her cheeks are flush and her breath hits his face in quick bursts.  He places his palm against her cheek.  “I will stop whenever you tell me to.”  She nods.

He runs his hand down her again.  He traces from the side of her neck, across her clavicle, stopping in the center.  He pulls at the laces on the shirt, loosening them all the way.  Her eyes close again and her grip tightens on his biceps.  He trails his finger lightly, so lightly he almost isn’t touching her, down the center of her chest.  He slides his other hand out from under her and uses it to prop himself up.  He brushes fingers across one of her breasts over the shirt.  She gives up trying to hold her sounds of pleasure in.  She whimpers and moans as he continues the motion.  Teasing her nipple.  He pulls on the shirt, shifting the unlaced opening so that her breast is exposed.

He brushes fingers across it.  She whispers his name, “Cullen.”  He lowers his mouth to her neck.  He pinches her nipple as he kisses her throat.  “Oh, Maker.”  His kisses travel south.  He creates a path down her throat, down the center of her chest.  Her back arches.  He sends shockwaves through her body with each kiss.  Finally he kisses her nipple.  She moans loudly.  Then he licks around it.  Her nails dig into his arms.  He takes her nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it and sucking.

She takes in quick, shallow breaths.  He hungers for her.  He leans up and grabs at the shirt.  He pulls it up.  She rises off the bed.  He runs both his hands up her sides, slowly taking the shirt with them as he goes.  He removes it completely and tosses it into the floor.  She falls back on the bed.  He leans down and kisses her navel.  Then kisses up her toned abdomen.  He takes her other nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue.  He places his hand on the other one and gently massages it.  She runs her fingers throw his hair.  She interlocks her fingers behind his neck, clinging to him.

She feels her legs tighten around him.  She whispers breathlessly, “Oh, Cullen.”  Her body tenses and spasms.  She cries out loudly.  Waves of pleasure pulsing through her.  Her body relaxes.  Her legs unwrap from around his waist.  She takes his face in her hands.  He looks up at her.  She sits up and he leans back on his knees.  She warps her arms around his neck pressing her chest against him.  He holds her to him.  He kisses the nape of her neck.  She trembles beneath his touch as aftershocks travel through her.

He feels like he should stop there.  Though his throbbing cock says otherwise.  She pulls away just enough to look into his eyes.  She rest her forehead against his.  Their noses touching.  He starts to close the distance to kiss her.

Loud banging rings in their ears as the door vibrates from the force.  They both sigh.  He whispers, “Duty calls.” 

She shakes her head violently.  “No.  I… no.  Please… just…”  The banging doesn’t stop. 

“She’ll break it down if she has to.”

She holds him tighter, “Let her.”

He holds her face between his hands.  “Shea,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry.”  She presses his hands harder into her face. 

“How… how could I possibly leave now?” 

He smirks at her, “Just think of it as something to come back to.” 

She groans.  “Not fair.” 

He kisses her forehead, “Such is life.”

She reluctantly scoots back from him.  As she slides out of the bed, he lies down on his side.  She watches her walk shakily to the door.  “I’m… coming, Cassandra.  Just… give me a moment.”  They hear her footsteps retreat form the door.  Shea rests her head against the door and sighs.  He has her all wound up, like the gears of an old clock.   “I…” 

She feels him behind her. “I know.”  He kisses the back of her neck.

She leans back and he wraps his arms around her, cupping her large breasts in his hands.  That’s when she feels it.  The full length of him is pressed up against her.  She wasn’t the only one wound up.  She lets out a ragged sigh.  “Cullen.” 

He kisses the side of her neck.  “I’ll be alright.  But if you don’t put something on, I might not be.”

She pulls away from him and goes for her armor.  He picks the shirt up off the floor and folds it.  He doesn’t watch her get dressed, he can’t.  She’s leaving.  It was bad enough before, but now…  He sets the shirt down and sits on the bed.  Finished donning her armor, she crosses the room to him.   “I will come back.”

“I know.”  He takes her gloved hands.

“Will you write me?” 

He looks up at her.  “Of course.  And not just reports either.”

She bends down and kisses his forehead.  “You should rest.  I’m sure Adan will be in to check on you soon.  You’re going to have to explain to me what happened, by the way.”

He hugs her around the waist and she runs her fingers through his hair.  “Be safe.”

“I’ll try.” She backs away and walks to the door.  She unlocks it and turns back.  “Oh and Cullen?”

His eyes meet hers.  She smiles at him, “Thanks for the orgasm.”  She watches his face turn red and he sharply inhales. 

“You’re a cruel, cruel woman.  Travel safely.  Tell Cassandra to avoid the lake.”  She nods and opens the door.  She turns back again. 

“I… never mind.  Get better, ok?” 

He nods.  She turns to leave and turns back.  “Just go, will you.  Unless you want Cassandra to murder me.”

“Why you?”

“Well, she needs you.  She can always find another commander.”

“She’d never find one like you.”  She actually leaves this time, closing the door softly behind her.  He flops back on the bed.  She leans against the door.  They both sigh.  She is taking his heart with her and she is leaving hers with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again! See ya'll tomorrow with the next installment!
> 
> Note: The next couple characters will be delayed a few hours. I have a stupid weekend class that lasts all day, but as soon as it get dones, posting will be the first thing I do!
> 
> UPDATED: July 19, 2018


	13. Distance and Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry I'm late posting. Tomorrow will be the same way unfortunately. I just had to go to Grad school lol.
> 
> *** time/POV change

The inner circle, the ones remaining in Haven, are forcing Cullen to work from his bed in the Chantry.  Leliana even threatened to chain him to it if he tried to go back outside.  They were worried that he might have a concussion from his fall.  So reports are being delivered to him while Rylen and Lysette train the men.  During one of his naps, someone snuck in and removed his armor.  He had to submit a written request for pants, because he wasn’t about to walk into the main hall to ask Josephine in nothing but his smallclothes.  Until she replies, hopefully with a pants delivery, he wears their shirt and keeps his bottom half hidden under blankets.

He feels warmth in his face, heart, and groin every time he looks down at it.  When he smells it, he can smell her.  He reaches over and grabs the board Josephine had delivered that held paper, ink, and a quill.

 

_Shea,_

_I want to start by warning you that I’m not good at writing letters.  Just ask my sister._

_You’ve only been gone a few hours, yet you are all I can think about._

_I’m being held prisoner in this room.  Even though I feel fine.  More than fine._

_I’ve been thinking about… over time together since the moment I had to watch you leave._

_Based on the feelings that stirs in me, I suppose being bedridden isn’t so bad._

_Please be careful._

_-Cullen_

He calls out, “Someone get it here!”  He folds the letter and sticks in an envelope.  He writes “Lady Trevelyan” on the outside.  A solider enter and salutes.  “I need this delivered to the Herald.  By raven.”  The solider takes the letter, salutes, and exits.  He lets his head fall back against the wall, hissing in pain.  He forgot about that.  He grumbles to himself and reaches back to remove the bandage.  Adan enters with a tray.  His eyes narrow at Cullen, who sheepishly removes his hands from the bandage.

“How’s the pain?”

“Fine.  I was just curious about the state of things back there.”

“The mage healed it with magic.  He said it should be completely gone in a few days, provided we get rest and elfroot.”  Adan holds out a flask with liquid in it.  “He has prepared something for you.  Apparently, _mine_ aren’t strong enough.  Leave the bandage alone.  I’ll return this evening to check on its progress.”  Adan leaves slamming the door behind him.

He knew who to thank for the bed rest then.  He pulls the cork from the bottle and takes a whiff of it.  He shoves the cork back in the bottle and nearly throws it across the room.  “Adan!”  The grumpy man comes back in. 

“What?” 

Cullen holds out the bottle.  “I don’t want this.  Give me one of yours.”

Adan looks slightly pleased but also confused.  “He said you’d heal faster.”

“I don’t care.  I just...  You’re an alchemist, right?  I bet you could make something just as good if not better without putting anything… questionable in it.” Adan beams and takes the bottle from him. 

“I’ll get right on it.”  He leaves.

Cullen squeezes the bridge of his nose.  _Lyrium.  Why would he put lyrium in a healing potion?_   _I need air._   The throws the covers off himself and feels air hit his thighs.  _Damn it!_ He covers himself back up and yells, “Josephine!” 

He hears footsteps move away from his door.  Some distant mumbling and then footsteps returning.  The door swings open.  “You needed something?”

“Did you get my request?  I sent it hours ago.  This is maddening!  I can’t stay locked in this room!”  She shakes her head and laughs.

“You are a horrible patient.”

“I’m restless and bored.  And I need air.  And…”

“Calm down.  If we can come to agreeable terms, I might approve your request.”

He scoffs, “Seriously?  You won’t even allow me to have pants?!”

“Only if you agree to our terms.

He growls softly, “Name them.”

“If you agree to stay in bed, take the potions Adan gives you, _and_ not fight us on any of this, then you will have someone retrieve something for you to wear.”

He shakes his hand, “No.  But… I have a counter offer.”  She tilts her head.  “ _If_ someone brings me pants, I promise that I will stay indoors.  No training.  I won’t even wear armor.  I will sleep on an actual bed.  However, there must be a scout at the ready at all times and I get to choose where my prison is located.”

She smiles.  “I think we can agree to those terms.”

“Great.  I’d like those pants now.”  She goes over to the chest at the foot of one of the beds and pulls out a pair of his black pants.  “Were those in their all this time?!”

“At least, we know you stayed in bed.  We had someone trade them out for your armor.”  She hands him the pants and turns to leave.  “We will hold you to your word, Commander.”  She closes the door behind her.  He stands and his bare feet hit to cold stone floor.  _Damn.  I probably should have asked for boots, too._   He puts on his pants, gathers up his reports, and opens the door.  Josephine is still standing in the hall.

“What happened to our agreement, Commander?”

“Oh I have every intention of holding up my end.  I’m just relocating as per our terms.”  He starts walking toward the Chantry doors.  She blocks his path.

“Where are you going?” 

He smirks.  “I believe there is a perfectly good cabin not being used at the moment.  I’m going there.”

“All the cabins are filled.  Where could you possibly… oooooh.  I see.  Are you just going to walk there without shoes?”

“If I have to.  It’s not that far.  Besides I’m Fereldan.  We’re built for the cold.”  He steps around her.  She goes to stop him again.  “Lady Montilyet, I took you at your word when I agreed to the terms.  Either let me pass, or I’ll have a solider bring me my armor and I’ll get back to work.” 

She sighs and steps aside.  “They’re your feet.”

He knows this is going to suck, but he also knows there is a bathtub in her cabin.  His bare feet crunch in the snow.  A cold wind blows through the thin shirt.  Leliana looks up from a report and he waves casually at her and smiles.  She looks to Josephine who is standing with her arms crossed in the doorway.  She shrugs.  He out played her.  He fights the shiver that threatens to shake his body.  He walks with confidence all the way to her cabin.

Once the door is closed behind him, the reports in his hands go flying as the shiver he sets free makes him shake his arms violently.  He gathers them up and sets them on her desk.  He checks to see if there is water in the tub.  Seeing that someone has replaced it with fresh water, he grabs the pot from next to the fireplace, fills it with water, and hangs the pot on the hook.  He puts a log on the low burning fire and stokes it.  Once it catches he adds another log.  And now he must wait.  He pulls back the blanket on her bed and climbs in.  He buries his face into the pillow and inhales.  Her scent floods his nose.  He smiles at his fast thinking.  She doesn’t feel so far away now.  He hugs the pillow to him and closes his eyes.

***

Shea and Varric exchange glances.  They are both miserable.  They watch Solas and Cassandra walking casually and briskly along what Cassandra claimed to be a road.  She trips on a tree root and Varric catches her.  They’ve been doing that a lot, taking turns making sure the other doesn’t fall.  “Did it ever occur to them that I’m a city dwarf?  I don’t do hiking.”

“I know right.  How could this possibly be called a road?  _Roads_ don’t have giant boulders or killer tree roots sticking out of them.”  She punts a rock and watches it sail through the air.  It narrowly misses Cassandra’s head.  She spins around and Shea holds up a hand, smiling timidly.  “Oops.  Sorry.”

Cassandra was already mad.  By the time they left Haven, it was almost mid-day.  It was the reason they were taking this short cut.  She wanted to make camp at a certain spot by night fall, but even then they would probably still be stumbling in the dark.  She refused to stop until they reached it.

Varric suppresses a laugh, “At least she’s not trying to kill _me_ anymore.  You might be her new target.” 

Shea laughs, “You might be right.”

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Yes.  Why?”

Varric shrugs, “I figured since you mentioned you’ve never really been anywhere that the excitement of travel and battle might keep you awake.  That and worrying about the Commander.”  She blushes at the mention of him.  “Oh.  Now this I’ve got to hear.  Something happened.  I can sense it.  I have a knack for these things.”

“No… nothing… what would give you that idea?”

“Should I point out the obvious or just make up a story for you?  Either way works for me.”

“I’m telling you nothing happened.”  She refuses to make eye contact with the clever dwarf.

“Fine.  Keep your secrets.  The story I’m creating is probably way too scandalous for your innocent ears anyhow.”

She bites her lip, debating on if she should confide in him.  She resigns and gives in.  “Fine.  You win.  But if you tell anyone about this, you won’t have to worry about Cassandra being the one who kills you.”  He smiles.

“You’re attracted to our former templar aren’t you?”

She sighs, “That is probably a _huge_ understatement.”  She slows down to let Solas and Cassandra get a sizeable lead.  Once she is confident they are out of ear shot, she takes a deep breath.  “I… we… Maker, I’m not even sure how to explain it.”

“I’m not an expert on these things, but I’ve seen how you look at him.  There’s more than lust in your eyes.  I get that, but that’s not really what I’m referring to.  We had to wait until you unlocked that door in the Chantry.  You looked very… flustered when you met up this us this morning.”

Her ears burn red.  “It’s not what you think.”

“Isn’t it?”

“We didn’t… not exactly.”  She crosses her arm over her chest.  Her skin tingles thinking about their morning together.

“But it was close?  Say no more.  I’ll let it rest.”  They walk in silence for a little while.  “This is probably none of my business and you can answer, or not, but have you ever…?”  She shakes her head.  “Never?”  She shakes her head again.  “Well then.”  He rubs his neck.  “Shit.  Now this is awkward.”

She shoves him slightly, “Hey.  You started it!  This isn’t exactly a familiar topic for me.  The whole subject of boys is completely foreign.”

“Really?  So you’ve never… because you never had a boyfriend or anything?”

“Being the youngest and having no chance to be heir to my father’s title and holdings, not to mention being promised to the Chantry at birth, it wasn’t ever brought up.  I didn’t have suitors looking for some sort of gain, because there wasn’t one to be had.  Most of my life I was cooped up in my house.  No real connections of my own.  It’s why I leapt at the chance to help out in Kirkwall.”

“Wait.  You’ve been to Kirkwall?  Why haven’t you mentioned that?”

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, but a lot has happened to me recently.  But yes, I went with my uncle and a group of templars from Ostwick.  I begged him to go.  I wanted to help.  And to get out the house.  Sure, it wasn’t a vacation destination and not particularly safe at the time, but I went anyway.”

“Is it just me or does all this shit seemed connected to you?  I mean.  Blondie blows the Chantry sky high and it brings key members of the Inquisition to Kirkwall.  Curly and I were already there.  Cassandra comes to interrogate me.  You come with your important templar uncle…”   

“I actually saw Cullen and my uncle going up the steps to the Keep to meet with Hawke.  How is he by the way?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s fine.  He and Fenris are probably off killing mages and slavers or something.”  They walk in silence again.  “You seem really young to be caught up in all this.”

She nods.  “Sometimes it feels that way.”

“How old are you anyway?”

She rolls her eyes, “Does it matter?”

“Well, no.  I’m just curious.”

“I’m 20.”

“Wow.  You _are_ young.”

She sighs, “But still a little old to just start my templar training.  Most leave their homes at a much younger age.  I guess when your uncle happened to be of high rank and was the one who taught you how to fight, they overlook it.  Honestly, I had no place being at that conclave.  I was supposed to be starting my training, but instead had to represent House Trevelyan.  It’s one of the reasons I’m starting to buy into this whole chosen thing.”

They hear Cassandra draw her sword ahead of them and run to catch up.  She’s putting it away, when they get there.  “Just a raven.  I’m surprised it found us.”  She goes over to it and removes the paper from the metal container on its leg.  She groans and holds it to Shea.  “It’s for you.”  Shea takes it from her. Her heart races.  He wrote her.  “Let’s keep moving.  We’re almost there.”  She goes to send the bird away.  Shea stops her. 

“Wait!  How will I respond?”

Cassandra rolls her eyes.  “You will have to wait until we reach the crossroads in the Hinterlands.”  She sighs, “Or you can bring the bird with us to camp, if you can keep up with it.”  Shea goes over to the bird.  She doesn’t know what to do.  “They are smart.  Just talk to it.” 

She looks back at Cassandra.  “Thanks.  Come with me, bird.”  It spreads its wings and flies away.  “Where’s it going?” 

Cassandra laughs, “It will follow us from above.  If you had a cage, it would have gone in that.”  They all start walked and Shea ignores the dangers of walking and reading gently tearing open the envelope.  She falls behind the group as her eyes devour his words.

 _He’s thinking about me too?  About our morning?_ She goes a little weak in the knees as she holds the paper to her chest.  He may not be good at writing lengthy letters, but the point was made.  She sighs and sticks the letter in a pouch on her belt.  She runs to catch the others.

***

Cullen opens his eyes and breathes into her pillow.  The pot over the fire is boiling, so he stands up and pours it in.  He sets the pot next to the raging fire.  He sticks his finger in the water to test it.  _Hmm.  Too hot.  I’ll have to wait._ He grabs the bar of soap off the shelf and tosses it in.  He sits on the bed and lays back, feet still on the floor.  His mind wanders.  Visions of her fill his head.  The first battle.  Catching her below the breach.  The smile on her sleeping face as he took her pain away.  The fire in her eyes as they sparred.  The feel of her in his arms as he held her.  The smell of her hair.  The softness of her smooth skin.

He felt himself stiffen and grow with each thought.  He rises from the bed and removes all of his clothes.  He stands naked and hard in her room.  He walks over to the bath and lowers himself into it.  It’s still a little too warm, but it feels good on his frozen feet.  He relaxes, leaning his back against the side of the tub walls.

His mind returns to her.  The soft moans that escaped her as he brushed his nose against her sensitive nipple.  He strokes himself beneath the water.  The taste of her supple flesh in his mouth.  Her legs wrapped tightly around him.  The warmth of her pressed against him.  His name whispered from her lips as she climaxed.  And with that, he brings himself to completion.

He leans his head back on the tub.  His heartrate slowly returning to normal.  He slowly removes the bandage from his head, setting it down on the floor.  He submerges himself in to water as little aftershocks of pleasure roll through him.  He surfaces, running his fingers through his hair.  He touches the back of his head.  It feels smooth but tender.  Which means no scar and no weird bald spot.

He finally feels warm.  He grabs the soap to clean himself.  His mind shifting to all the things he had to do for the first time all day.  He rinses off the soap and grabs a towel that is neatly folded on the shelf.  He dries himself off then wraps the towel around his waist.  He sits down at the desk and reads reports.

There’s a knock at the door.  He almost yells for them to enter but stops realizing he’s just wearing a towel, “Who is it?”

“Adan.”  Cullen stands, removes the towel, and quietly puts on his pants.  He opens the door bare chested.  “I’ve brought you some options.”  Cullen stands aside to allow him to enter.  “You removed the bandage?”

“Yes, sorry.  I wanted to wash the blood out of my hair.” 

Adan nods.  “That’s fine then.  But don’t poke at it.” 

“You said you had options?”

Adan shows him the various potions he has mixed.  “This one is the closest in strength to the one the mage made you.  For most people, his potion would make them high as a kite, but for a templar… even if they were still bleeding from the wound that made them take it, they’d be swinging a sword in seconds.  So, you won’t want mine or his judging by the look on your face.  This one is very basic.  This one is stronger, more concentrated.  It’ll still be slow, but much faster than the basic.”

“That one sounds fine.  Thank you.”  Adan hands him a few of the potions.

“Take one a day.  When you run out, you shouldn’t need anymore.  And can get back to work.  You’re stuck here a few more days.  Just a warning, Sister Nightingale has eyes on this place.  She will know if you try to leave.”

“I figured she would.  Thank you, again.”  Adan leaves.  Cullen shuts the door behind him.  He downs a potion.  It takes like mint and blueberries.  Next time, he’ll take it like a shot so the taste doesn’t linger on his tongue.  He returns to his reports.  He finds one worrying report concerning the Order.  They’ve started to rebel in earnest against the Chantry.  There are a few loyal Templars left, desperately clinging to the old ways.  Protecting some loyal mages who stayed in the Circles.

He picks up the quill and furiously starts writing.  He doesn’t ask anymore their thoughts on the matter.  These templars and mages need help.  He will offer them a place with the Inquisition.  Hostilities between the two might increase with the larger numbers, but he won’t abandon them like the rest of the Order seems to.  Even the Chantry is ignoring their pleas.  This will take up much of his time.  He has found a project to distract him while he is forced to stay indoors.

***

The sun has set before they reach camp.  They walk close together holding torches aloft so that they can see.  Shea silently thanks Harritt for the padded armor and gloves.  Without them her knees would be bruised and her hands cut from every fall.  The thick underbrush has tripped everyone in the past hour.  Cassandra let’s out a sigh.  “We’ve made it.”  The clearing is small with just enough room of a fire and their bedrolls.  Dense trees ring the clearing on three sides.  A small creek on the fourth.  “If we are attacked here, we should hear them coming.  If they can even find us.”

Shea sets up her spot, “Are you expecting an attack?”

Cassandra gathers wood from the tree line, “No, but we can never be sure.  We have enemies.  Some known, some unknown.”  The group lapses into exhausted silence as they set up camp.  With the fire going, they sit around it and eat some of the dried druffalo Cassandra prepared.  The raven lands next to Shea.  She instantly remembers the note and starts digging in her pack for paper.  Seeing she isn’t ready, the bird flies off in search of its own dinner.

As she starts writing, she is suddenly very aware of the eyes on her.  Her cheeks redden.  “Why are you all staring at me?”

Cassandra leans forward, “I think we all want to know why you kept us waiting this morning.”

Solas shakes his head, “Though I will admit curiousity, it is not our business.”

Varric smiles, “Oh come on, leave Cub alone.”

Shea smiles at him, “Cub?  That’s the best you can could come up with?”

He winks at her, “Do you want me to explain it?”

She blushes and looks back down at her paper.  Cassandra groans.  “Will you at least tell me if it was a one-time thing or something more?”

She sighs.  “Nothing happened.  It might have, if it weren’t for all that knocking.  Now, please drop it.”

Cassandra gasps, “Really?!  What did his letter say?  How will you respond?”

“Cassandra.  Drop it,” Shea stares at the blank paper and sighs.  She looks up at her, “I don’t know what it is.  The worlds of romance and passion are… just… I don’t know.  I’m not even sure I should be letting anything develop there.  I think he feels the same way.  There is a lot to do.  I will probably never be in the same room with him long enough to _really_ start anything.  The Inquisition has only just begun, but… I just have this feeling that I will be running all over Southern Thedas trying to save it from itself.  And rifts.”

“Cub, you can’t really believe that.  Sure, crazy shit is happening and yes, you will be traveling a lot.  But that’s what paper is for.”

Cassandra nods, “He wrote you.  Something personal I’d wager.  We haven’t even gone a full day yet.  Any reports will be sent to our camp near the crossroads, but this letter…”

Shea takes it out of the pouch and unfolds it.  “He’s going to kill me for this.”  She holds it out for to Cassandra.  She snatches it and reads it out loud.

“Shea, I want to start by warning you that I’m not good at writing letters.  Just ask my sister. You’ve only been gone a few hours, yet you are all I can think about.  I’m being held prisoner in this room.  Even though I feel fine.  More than fine.  I’ve been thinking about over time together since the moment I had to watch you leave.  Based on the feelings that stirs in me, I suppose being bedridden isn’t so bad.  Please be careful. Cullen.”

Shea has turned beat red and is hiding her face behind the paper in her hands, “Did you really have to read it out loud?”

Varric laughs, “Not good at writing letters, my ass.”

Cassandra hands her back the letter, “Do know what you’ll say to him?”

“Not a clue.  I mean, do I just put it all out there?  In a letter?  I haven’t known him that long.  Only a few days.  I hardly know him.”

Solas looks over at her.  “Does that matter?  You clearly have feelings for him.  With all the dangers in this world, especially now, shouldn’t you express how you feel.  You might not get the chance later.”

Shea shakes her head, “Thank you for that,” she says sarcastically, “No pressure or anything.”

“It doesn’t matter what you say, or how you say it.  Just having you write back will mean a lot to him.  We should get some sleep.  We continue at dawn,” Cassandra settles into her bedroll.  Solas and Varric follow suit.

Shea watches the fire as everyone but her drifts off to sleep.  What should she say?  Just respond to the things he said?  Put her own stuff in?  Tell him some personal stuff she can’t bring herself to say out loud?  She sighs.  _Here goes nothing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are enjoying the story! Please leave comments below!
> 
> UPDATED July 20, 2018


	14. Writings on the Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/POV shift

Cullen opens his eyes as light streams into the open window.  He is hugging her pillow to his chest.  His hand cramping from all the letters and reports he wrote the day before.  He stretches and yawns.  He goes to the desk rubbing sleep from his eyes.  A stack of reports are already on the desk along with a tray of bread and cheese.  He eats as he reads the first report.  The loyal templars in Starkhaven have denied his offer stating that they will instead serve their Prince.  They claim to have no mages because they were all sent to Kirkwall. 

The next response is from Kinloch Hold, which surprises him.

_Commander Cullen,_

_We are deeply relieved to receive your invitation.  The Circle is all but abandoned.  The mages have moved into Redcliffe Village.  The templars received orders to go to Val Royeaux and left us.  I have fought off bandits as best I can, but I fear we won’t survive much longer.  If you would have us, we would try to assist the Inquisition as best we can.  We are few in number, just me and the circle’s tranquil.  When the Circle fell, I stayed with them.  Please let us know if we can come to Haven as soon as you can._

_Sincerely_

_Minaeve_

He writes back telling her that if they can make it to the crossroads, to look for Seeker Pentaghast who is on her way there with the Herald of Andraste.  She is to show Casandra this letter and tell her that Commander Cullen has officially offered her and any tranquil in her care a place with the Inquisition.  She will help her get to Haven or set her up with an escort.

He sticks his head out the door and holds it out to the scout standing there.  “This is urgent.  Send it to Kinloch Hold by raven.”  The scouts nods and salutes.  Cullen goes back to the desk.  There are no more responses but there are other reports.  He flips through them.  His eyes catch on a dirty, slightly crinkled paper.

_Cullen,_

_I have stared at this piece of paper for hours now.  Everyone is asleep.  I probably should be too, but I can’t.  The ground is hard and cold._

_I am also bad at letters.  I never know what to say.  Will I say too much or not enough?  Your letter was perfect._

_I feel like I should tell you some things about myself.  And if you have questions, I welcome them.  You know basics.  My name, where I’m from, etc.  I might be worse at talking about what’s on my mind in person than I am on paper.  I’ve played the Game.  Yes, it exists in the Free Marches, it’s just not as deadly.  Because of this, I have been raised to keep my cards close to my chest._

_Despite this, I want you to know me.  Not the Herald, not a noble from Ostwick, not a former templar recruit, but me.  The girl who plays at being a soldier.  The girl who can put on airs to seem confident and wise, but inside I’m scared.  Scared of not knowing if the decisions I will make are the right ones.  Scared of being in a strange land with people I hardly know.  Scared of how alone that makes me feel.  And… scared of my feelings for you._

_I have them and I feel like that is obvious.  Is it?  I don’t know.  What I do know is that I miss you.  More than I probably should.  These feelings I have are all new to me.  Would it surprise you to know that I’ve never… been with anyone?  Not just… you know… but in a relationship.  Being promised to the Chantry has that effect on people.  I don’t know how to do any of this._

_Am I rambling?_

_Varric has landed on a nickname for me.  Cub.  I think it’s a dig at my inexperience.  Not just romantically, but with life in general.  Before landing in Ferelden, I had never been in a real fight.  Never taken a life, until… I can see his face even now.  Doesn’t that ever leave you?  Sorry.  My mind is everywhere right now._

_I keep thinking about this morning.  Though I suppose by the time you get this, it might be yesterday.  I… is it hot?  I’m suddenly very hot.  No one has ever made me feel like that.  Ever.  I’m breathless just thinking about it.  I wish…_

_I should probably stop and tear this up.  Start again.  I hope that you are well.  How’s your head?  Please not try not to worry yourself about me too much.  I will try to do the same.  I look forward to your next letter.  Wow.  This is longer than I thought it would be.  Good night or good morning in case you receive this after waking._

_~Shea_

He reads her words over and over.  Trying to hear them in her voice.  She’s right they don’t know much about each other, but he doesn’t care and she doesn’t seem to care either.  He grabs up a quill and writes:

 

_Shea,_

_It is in fact morning.  I have been freed from the Chantry bed.  I’m staying in your cabin while they force me to rest.  I hope that’s ok with you?  My head is fine.  Should be completely healed in a few days._

_I think the nickname suits you.  A bear is fierce and strong.  They protect their loved ones at all costs.  A cub is all those things, yet they have the potential for growth.  Yes, it may have a lot to learn, but that doesn’t stop it from trying.  After you’ve fought a bear, you let me know how you feel about your nickname._

_As for the faces.  They fade in time as do the nightmares they cause when they are fresh.  The longer you do this, the easier it is to live with.  That sounds horrible, but it’s true.  Your mind becomes accustomed to it.  But killing someone in battle is different than murder.  It’s when you forget that those people are just that, people, is when you should really start worrying._

_There is nothing wrong with being scared.  All you can do is trust yourself to know you are doing the right thing.  Sometimes fear lets you know that you are still alive._

_You… I… and this is when it all falls apart.  I… I’m just going to say it.  I ache to have you in my arms again.  I remember how your skin felt under my fingers.  I… I’m beginning to think we should maybe slow down.  Not stop.  Heavens no.  I’m not sure I could handle that.  I want to know you.  I want you to know me.  There are things about me that I’m worried you won’t like, but I want you to know them.  I am… not quite ready to get into that, but I am an open book._

_Since you’ve shared, I’ve only been with two women.  It did not end well.  I won’t go into details, part of the past I can’t talk about, but one day I will._

_I’ll end this before I embarrass myself further._

_I miss you, too._

_-Cullen_

_***_

Shea receives his letter the following night.  Having learned her lesson, she keeps the letter to herself.  Waiting until everyone has fallen asleep to read and respond.

 

_Cullen,_

_You… I… we… off to a good start, huh?  Your letter took longer to get to me this time.  We are further apart, so it makes sense.  I must be patient.  You must do the same.  We can’t let ourselves panic when it takes a long time for a letter to arrive.  We’re trying to get to the crossroads unnoticed.  The fire is so low I can barely feel its warmth.  Because of this Cassandra has asked that you send letters to camps and not send a raven searching for me._

_I hate that idea, but she is probably right.  Damn her._

_I don’t want to spend this time thinking about death and horrors.  I much prefer the second half of your letter.  I picture your cheeks blushing and that smirk of yours while you wrote it.  And you are right, we should probably slow down.  But when you say things like…_  (Ink droplets and smears follow the line.)

_Sorry.  I… uh… was having a moment.  I don’t think I want to try to control what happens.  We have so many things that pull for our attention that I just want us to… be.  However we feel like.  If… things… happen, then so be it.  We will figure it out in the moment.  Just enjoy each other while we can.  I don’t know what the future holds, but I want you in it.  I know that, for sure._

_I will let you know when we get to the crossroads.  Until then…_

_Shea_

***

He is finally free to leave the cabin.  He pours all his energy into building his army.  She lets the adventure distract her.  Exploring the land and getting to know her companions.  She soon starts calling them her friends.  They think of each other often, but the distance is letting clearer heads prevail. 

Things get out of control for her in the Hinterlands, so much so that she never has an opportunity to write him properly.  The reports come telling the advisors how things are going and what they are going to be working on.  Scribbled at the bottom of a report from Scout Harding is a little note.

_Commander,_

_I’m sorry. When we get a moments peace, I’ll report back as discussed._

_~Herald_

It continues like that as days turn to weeks.  Little notes scribbled hastily on reports as they are about the leave camp.  Letting him know that he is on her mind.  And though he would love to hear from her.  He knows that she is trying.  He decides to give her some peace of mind.

 

_Shea,_

_I have received your little notes on the reports Cassandra or Harding sends about your actions.  Please don’t stress about it.  I understand.  It matters that you are thinking of me, just as I am thinking of you.  Please be careful.  I miss you._

_Cullen_

           

The next report they get back has her response.

 

_C. You too. S._

He becomes accustomed to not hearing from her.  She’s been gone for almost three weeks.  He has moved back to his tent.  Her scent has started to fade from the pillow and the cabin feels empty.  His nightmares have grown more frequent since his fall.  The failsafe wearing away after the wound has healed.  In her absence, he feels himself going back to the way he was before.  All work.  Except at night, now he has something to hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank as always for reading!
> 
> UPDATED July 20, 2018


	15. Candy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 14 was really short. So here's 15!
> 
> *** time/POV shift

It is the middle of the night when she returns to Haven.  She is tired and battle worn.  She will only be here until morning, Val Royeaux awaits.  She hands over her horse and goes to her cabin.  He isn’t there.  She changes out of her armor.  His shirt is sitting on the back of the chair.  She takes off her band and tosses it with the rest of her armor.  She puts on the shirt.  She puts her boots back on and wraps a long, thick travel cloak around her.  She then leaves her cabin.  It’s freezing and snowing.  The wind tugs at her cloak threatening to reveal her near nakedness underneath it.  Fortunately, Haven is quiet.  A few guards mill about, but they pay her no mind.

She walks as quietly as she can through the army camp, which has nearly doubled in size.  She separates the flap to his tent, trying not to let the cold in.  She sees him, finally, for the first time in three weeks.  He is asleep on his back, a blanket wrapped tightly around him.  She secures the flap, something she leaned to do on the road.  She hangs her cloak with his and kicks off her boots.  She goes over to his cot.  There is no room on either side of him.  It’s only made for one.

Not knowing what else to do, she straddles him, sitting on his thighs.  Her fingers are cold and she considers warming them.  _To hell with it._   She gently untucks the blanket and folds it down.  She tugs gently on the end of his shirt to free it.  She places her cold hands on his lower abdomen.  He inhales sharply, shifting beneath her touch.  She smirks and slowly moves her hand up his chest under his shirt.  As she starts to twirl his chest hair between her fingers, he grabs her wrists.  It’s not a loving touch.  It hurts.       

“Cullen.  Cullen!”  His eyes snap open and he sits up, still squeezing her wrist.  She gives him a few seconds to process his surroundings before gently whispering, “Cullen?”  He looks her in the eyes.  He isn’t sure if she’s real or if the nightmare still has a hold for him.  “Cullen.  You’re hurting me.”  He looks down at his hands.

“Maker!  I’m sorry!”  He lets her go and covers his face.  “Oh, Maker.  I’m so sorry.  Please forgive me.”  She gently moves his hands away from his face and leans down to meet his eyes.  He looks away.  She grabs his face and makes him face her.  His eyes are closed.

“Cullen.  Look at me.” He shakes his head.  He feels her breath on his face.  “Cullen.  Please.  There’s no harm done.  I should have noticed you were having a nightmare, it’s my fault.”  His eyes open then.

“No!  I shouldn’t have…” 

She places a finger on his lips.  “Shh.  It’s ok.”  She warps her arms around his neck pulling him to her chest.  He hugs her as tightly as he can.  She runs her fingers through his hair and kisses the top of his head.  “I’m really here.  I promise.”  He moves his face against her beasts, burying his face between them.  She feels him inhale deeply.  She chuckles.  “Missed them I take it?”

He looks up at her, “I missed you.  This is just an added bonus.”  He flashes her favorite smirk, looking deep into her eyes, “You look exhausted.”  She nods.  “Then come here.”  Still holding her he lays back down on the cot pulling her down with him. 

She groans, “Wait.  I don’t want to sleep just yet.  I leave for Val Royeaux in the morning after we have a brief meeting.  I don’t want to waste what little time I have you to myself sleeping.”  She pushes herself up looking down at him.

She reaches under his shirt, placing her hands back on his lower abdomen.  She runs her hands back up his chest.  A soft moan escapes his lips. He sits up slightly and quickly removes his shirt. He throws it across the tent.  She bends down and kisses his abs.  He puts his hands on her hips.  She makes a trail of kisses up his stomach to his chest.  He can’t take not being an inactive partner in this exchange.  He grabs her face and sits up abruptly.  He lifts her chin and presses his lips firmly against her neck.  She shoves her hands into his hair and grabs hold.  She feels him rising between them.  She moans and shifts.  He continues kissing neck.  Grabbing her by the hips, he moves her forward so that she is fully on top of him.  His hard cock pressing against her clit.  She moans again and moves against him.  He lets out a low growl.  He grabs the front of her shirt.  Not wanting to fight with it, he rips it open.  Tearing it down the center.  She gasps. He warps his arm around her waist and flips her onto the cot.  He presses down on top of her as he returns to forcefully kissing her neck.  She whimpers and her nails dig into his shoulders.

He knows that it is not the right time for them to have sex.  With so many ears to hear them.  That moment should be tender, secluded.  And not when she’s about to have to ride a horse.  That will not however stop him from finishing her off.  She finds she can make no noise.  He is being rough with her and it feels so amazing.  She wants to cry out, but she can’t.

He moves his attention to her breasts.  Teasing with his hands and mouth.  Her back arches and rubs against the length of him.  He looks up at her and runs his hand down her stomach.  She bites her lip.  He keeps his eyes on her face as he slowly slides his hand lower down her body.  He is slightly concerned that she is too breathless to protest.  She doesn’t move to stop him.  He slides his hand down the front of her underwear.

He runs his fingers against her soft folds.  She takes into shallow shaky breaths.  He never takes his eyes off her face.  He wants to watch her.  He rubs his fingers in a circle around her stiff nub.  Her mouth opens wide, but no sound escapes.  He wonders why that is.  Her body spasms with release but he doesn’t stop.  He presses his fingers harder against her.  Sending another wave of spasms through her.  He smirks.  He loves seeing her like this.  He slows his movements and lets her calm a little.

Her eyes flutter open.  She looks into his eyes, warm and bright in the darkness. They hold eye contact, his hand still moving against her.  He whispers, “Keep your eyes open.”  She nods.  His free hand moves her leg open more.  He slides his hand down, eyes glued to her as he slide one finger inside her. She gasps and bites her lip.  He moves within her.  Feeling how wet she is.  Her slick coating his hand.  He smirks withdrawing his finger.  She whimpers at the loss, but before she can miss his touch for too long, he slides two finger deep inside her.  He watches her struggle to keep her eyes and failing.  They close tightly as she gasps for air.  She arches her back pressing her head into his small pillow.  He fingers her while watching her face.  Her hand grabs the wrist of the hand that’s working her.  She holds him still and the largest spasms yet roll through her.  She tightens around his fingers and crying out loudly into the night.

He keeps still as she rides out the waves of pleasure.  She takes a sharp deep gulp of air and relaxes.  Her face bright red.  She releases his wrist and lets her hand fall out to her side.  He slowly removes his fingers and slides his hand out of her smallclothes.  He waits for her to recover enough to open her eyes.  When they do, his sticks his fingers in his mouth.  He closes his eyes as he tastes her.  He sucks on his fingers for a moment before sliding them from between his lips.  He opens his eyes.  She is watching him.  Biting her lip.  He licks his lips and rest both of his hands on her thighs.

She props herself up on her elbows.  That’s as far as she can go.  She wants to embrace him, but every ounce of her energy is gone.  He runs his hands up her thighs and wraps his arms around the small of her back.  He slowly pulls her towards him.  She rests her forehead on his chest.  Supporting her with one hand and himself with the other he rolls her on top of him as he lays back down on his back.

Her face rests on his chest.  He runs a finger along her chin and she looks up at him.  “Tired now?”  He smirks.  She sighs letting her head fall back to his chest.  “Then sleep.  I’ll be here when you wake up.”  She weakly pulls her hand up.  She runs it down his cheek and across his jaw.  Then places it on his chest.  He smiles.  It doesn’t take long for sleep to take her.  He hears a gentle snore escape her lips.  He sighs and closes his eyes.  He can still taste her on his tongue.  His licks his lips and drifts to sleep.

***

The sun peaks through a hole in the flap of the tent.  She is still laying on top of him.  When she looks up, he is watching her.  “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long.”  She smiles and snuggles against him.

“I could just stay here forever.”

He chuckles, “Someone would come for us eventually.  My money’s on Cassandra.  But we have some time before we’ll be missed.  We could stay like this until then at least.”  He hugs her tighter to his chest.  “You looked rested.”

“Mm-hmm.  Probably the best I’ve slept… ever.  I mean… woof.”  He laughs heartily.

“I didn’t hurt you, right?”  She shakes her head.  “Good.  I kind of lost control a bit.”

“It’s ok.  I liked it.”  She smiles into his chest.

“Good.”

She pushes herself up, folding her hands under her chin to look at him.  She giggles.  ‘”I did a number on your hair.”

“That’s ok.  It was worth it.”  He brushes hair from her face.  “You hair probably isn’t much better.”  They lay there in blissful silence as the sun continues to rise.  The sounds of his men moving around outside signals that it’s time to get up.  He sits up forcing her to move with him.  He looks down at her breasts and sighs.

“What?”

“I ruined our shirt.” 

She smiles.  “You have others.”  She chuckles, “So, how am I going to escape without clothes?”  He smirks and points across the tent.  “I thought of that.”  She looks where he’s pointing.  All of her armor, her sword, and her bag are all sitting in the corner.  She looks back at him.

“When did you do that?”

“Just before sun up.  You were so knocked put that I was able to slip out, get your stuff, and come back to you all before anyone saw me or you woke.”

They hear someone approach the tent.  She covers her mouth.  “Ser?  Are you awake?”

“Yes.  I’ll be out in a moment.  Tell them I’ll meet them in the war room.”

“Yes, ser.”  The footsteps retreat.

“Do you think he knew I was here?”

“Um… I would have to say yes.  You had one rather loud orgasm last night.  Usually that’s a dead giveaway.  Also, probably why he didn’t just walk it like they usually do.  Does that matter?”

She blushes, “Well, that’s embarrassing.  And… no.  It doesn’t matter.  People will talk, of course.  They already do.”

“Does that bother you?”

“That they talk about me?  I’m used to it by now.  You should have heard people we encountered in the Hinterlands.  I’m a symbol.  Not even a person to a lot of them.  That’s the part that bothers me.  Gossip and rumor are a part of my life now.”

“But does talk about… what happened… I mean… we can try to keep this… whatever this is… a secret.  If you want.”  She looks into his eyes.

“What do you want?  I don’t mind keeping… whatever this is… a secret.  If that makes you more comfortable.  I suppose, at best, it would keep people from using it against you.  Me.  But it won’t stay quiet long.  Your men knew someone was in here last night.  I guess they don’t need to know it was me.”

He thinks it over.  “Honestly.  I don’t care.  Let them talk.  We don’t have to tell anyone anything.  This is our time.  Our… serenity.  We don’t have to confirm or deny anything.  We’re in charge.  Of whatever we are and of the Inquisition.”

“They’ll see when I leave.”

“Not if you don’t want them to.  It’s early yet.”

She stretches her arms over her head.  “We can figure that out in a moment.  First things first.  Clothes.”  She goes to stand and sways.  He puts his hand on her hips to steady her.  “Guess I’m still a little weak in the knees.”  He turns her to face him.  His eyes tracing every curve.  She blushes, “What are you doing?”

“Memorizing you.  For later.”

She moans.  “Don’t start something we don’t have time to finish, Commander.”  He stands pressing himself against her.  She backs up as he advances.  The desk stops her retreat.  He wraps an arm around her waist, pressing his hand into the small of her back.  He puts his other hand on her jaw below her ear.  He tilts her face up and leans in.

“Ser?  Seeker Pentaghast wants to know how long you’re going to be.” 

He groans.  “I’ll be there shortly.”  He rests his forehead on hers.  “One day.”  He backs away from her.  She curses under her breath.

They put on their armor in silence.  Each feeling the pain of leaving fast approaching.  Once finished, they face each other.  She walks toward him and reaches up.  She runs her fingers through his hair.  He moans.  His hands grabs her hips.  “Now, stop it.  I’m just fixing her hair.”

“It still feels nice.”

“Do you have a mirror?”  He shakes his head.

“You are kidding right?”  He shakes his head.  “Then how the hell do you get your hair so perfect all the time.”  He smiles and taps his chest.  The armor clangs. 

“Who needs to carry a breakable mirror when you have polished armor?”  She laughs.

“Ok then, clever boy.  Stand still.”  She sits in his desk chair and finds her reflection in his arm.  He watches her as she fixes her hair.  It’s not completely perfect, but at least it doesn’t look like she just sex.  “Ok.  Ready.  Now what?”

“Still wanting to sneak out?”  She shrugs.  “Ok.  Wait here.  When you hear a lot of feet marching that way,” He points, “That’ll be your cue.  If anyone sees, it’s because they are watching my tent like a hawk.  But I figure Leliana already knows anyway.”

“Will I see you after the meeting?”

“Certainly hope so.  It’s a long way to Val Royeaux.”  He undoes the tent flap and turns back to her.  “I… In case I don’t get to speak with you after the meeting...”

“Yes?”

He licks is lips and smirks, “You taste amazing, by the way.”  Her face burns red and he ducks out the tent.  She steadies herself on his desk.  She hears him yell, “What is everyone just standing around for?!  Shouldn’t you all be on a run right now?!  Move!”  She hears the herd of feet go running in the direction he pointed.  She peaks her head out and everyone is gone.  Except for him.  He smiles back at her and the winds blows his cloak back.  She smiles and rushes back into town.

***

Cullen somehow gets there before her.  Cassandra sighs, “It’s about time you woke up.”

She stands in her usual spot, “So sorry.  I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

“Not at all, Herald.  You’re right on time.  Now, how do we know this invitation to Val Royeaux isn’t a trap?”  He is so smooth.  If you didn’t know they had spent the night together, you would have believed him.  As he talks about the risks, her eyes drift over to Leliana, who is smiling knowingly at her.  She feels a blush rise in her cheeks.  Leliana mouths the word “details.”  Shea shakes her head.

There’s arguing and the creation of a backup plan in case the Chantry decides to arrest everyone and have Shea executed on the spot.  Then more arguing about seeking the help of the mages or templars.  Which she hasn’t really made her mind up on.  She says as much when asked.  She’s watching him strategize.  Not even a hint that he’s hiding anything.  How can he be so calm?  He looks as if it’s business as usual.  Every time he grips the hilt of his sword, she imagines him gripping something else.  She can’t focus.  His final comment keeps ringing in her ears.  She is vaguely aware of the conversation, she is following along as best she can, and she counts herself lucky they aren’t asking her questions.

Every cell in her body is telling her to vault over the table and kiss him.  They’ve come so close.  He’s had his hands all over her and they still haven’t kissed.  Why is that?  Furthermore, why didn’t they have sex last night?  She was ready.  She wanted to.  It felt like he wanted to.

She quickly listens to see if they were talking about something she would need to speak up about.  Nope.  Maybe he needs commitment to do that.  He did say he had only ever been with two women.  _I wonder what they were like.  I wonder how it ended badly._

“I think that’s it for now.  We’ve got a long journey ahead.”  And with that Cassandra ends the meeting.  They all head their separate ways.  She sees Cullen hang back, pretending to read a report he has already read. 

“Hey, Cassandra.  I’ll meet you and the guys at the stables.  I won’t be but a minute.”  Cassandra raises an eyebrow and nods, walking away.

Shea closes the war room door.  When she turns to face him, he presses her into it.  She gasps in surprise.  “Be safe.”  She hugs him around the neck.  He wraps his arms around her as tightly as he can.

She sighs, “How were you so calm?  I was fighting the urge at pounce you the whole time.”

He kisses the side of her neck.  “Me too.  The only thing stopping me was our audience.”

She smiles, “Uh huh.”  He loosens his hold.

“You should go before she comes in here to drag you out.”

She grumbles, “I’d like to see her try.”  She lets him go and faces the door.  She feels him back away from her.  “Here’s hoping they don’t execute me.”

“We won’t let that happen.”  She opens the door.  “Shea?”  She looks over her shoulder.  “I’ll see you in your cabin _when_ you get back.”She smiles and leaves.  His heart instantly misses her.  He knows it will be some time before he hears anything from her.  He pushes away from the table and walks out of the war room, turning to close the doors behind him.  Leliana is waiting for him.  He holds up a hand to stop her.  “I really don’t want to talk about it.  I know you think you know something.  But what happens behind closed doors and tent flaps is none of your business.”  She smiles.

“Well.  That’s really all I need to hear.  Thank you for confirming the report.”

“Wait.  They filed an actual report?”  She pulls a piece of paper from her sleeve and offers it to him.  He reads:

_HA in HB._

_HA leaves HB._

_HA enters CT._

_…_

_CC finishes HA_

_…_

_CC leaves CT_

_CC enters HB_

_CC exits HB with gear_

_CC returns CT_

_…_

_CC exits CT_

_HA exits CT_

_HA enters HB_

She decodes it for him, “It’s not complicated.  HA, Herald of Andraste.  HB, Herald Base.  CC, that’s you.  CT, Commander Tent.  Anything to say?”

“You don’t know everything.  This part, CC finishes HA, could be anything.”

Leliana laughs, “Your whole camp heard her.  They just didn’t know it was her.  Everyone is whispering about who the Commander is bedding.  I am a secret keeper, Cullen.  This one stays out of the spy reports.  He has also been warned not to do it again.  You are right, what happens in someone’s bed is not my business.  At least not when it’s a friend.”

He sighs, “We… it… Maker’s breath.”

“Did _you_ at least have fun?”

“It wasn’t… we didn’t… are you done messing with me now?”  She smiles and nods.

He crumples the note in his hand and storms off.  Once outside the chantry he drops the balled up note in a campfire.  He waits until it turns completely to ash before leaving.  He walks back to his tent.  He sits at his desk and exhales.  He rubs his neck and looks to the stack of paper in the center.  At the very top, there is a little piece of paper folded in half.  He picks it up and reads.

 

_C.  I want to taste you next time. S._

He chokes on air and nearly falls out of his chair.  He grips the edges of his desk.  When did she have time to do this?  His cock presses against his pants.  He’s going to have to take care of that.  It’s not just going to go away this time.  But how?  His men are everywhere and his walls are made of canvas.  Her cabin.  If he can make it there without anyone noticing his raging boner it’ll be a miracle.  He stands quietly.  He grips the hilt of his sword.  Good enough.  He walks from his tent.  Jim walks up to him, “Ser, I need…”

He waves him off, “Not now.” 

Jim follows him, “But, ser, I really need…”

“If it is an emergency, take it to Rylen.  If not, put it on my desk.”  He walks a little faster.  His pants rubbing him as he walks.  _Come on.  Just a bit further.  You can make it._   He passes through the gates and someone tries to get his attention.  He’s wearing unfamiliar armor.  “Commander, my name is…”

He holds up his hand, “I’m very sorry.  I have something very serious to attend to.  If you wait by the Chantry,” he has to pause, the rubbing of his pants almost pushing him over the edge.  “Someone will be with you shortly.”  He doesn’t wait for a response.  The soldier shrugs and walks towards the Chantry.

Cullen shuts the door behind him and leans back on it.  He pulls his glove off with his teeth and shoves his hand down the front of his pants.  He lets images of her face as she climaxes enter his mind.  The feel of her around his fingers.  Her juices in his mouth.  He groans loudly as he bursts.  He removes his hand form his pants and slides down the door.  He takes a few calming breaths.  _Maker that was close._

There is a soft knock on the door.  A female voice speaks, “Commander?  Are you alright?  I heard a noise.” 

He collects himself, “Yes, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?  I could fetch Master Adan if you need me to?”

“No.  That won’t be necessary.  I’m just retrieving some reports.” 

“Yes, ser.”  He listens to her footsteps as she walks away.  He sighs again and stands.  He goes to her small mirror and checks himself over to make sure there is no evidence.  Seeing that there’s none, he picks his glove up off the floor and puts it on.  He runs a hand through his hair.  He opens the door to return to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave comments!
> 
> UPDATED July 20, 2018


	16. The Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Just finished this weekend class. Bleh! Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> *** time/pov shift

Val Royeaux was a mess.  A breathtakingly beautiful cluster fuck of what the hell just happened.  Shea stands leaning over the edge of the ship looking into the water.  She told her friends she needed a moment to process what just happened.  First the Chantry public renounced her, then called out templars.  She was certain they were going to come kill her, but they assaulted the Revered Mother.  In front of everyone!  She had heard rumors that the Templar Order had been ordered to the Spire and that they were thinking of breaking all ties with the Chantry.  Turns out that was all true.  Every single Templar in Val Royeaux just up and left.  She knew some went rogue in the Hinterlands, but this.  Her family is very devout, but to see relatives, however distant, following this man threw up all kinds of red flags.  Not to mention, when she went to ask to them to either reconsider or join the Inquisition, a Trevelyan, she couldn’t remember his first name but she knew his face, spat at her as they were ordered to turn away from her.  

And if that wasn’t enough to overwhelm someone, add a Grand Enchanter inviting you to Redcliffe Village, an arrow being shot at you that leads you on a wild goose to a crazy elf, and then an invitation to a fancy party hosted by _the_ Madame de Fer.  Both of those people were on the ship with her now.  Sera still giggling and snorting about stealing breeches.  Vivienne, whom she instantly disliked, is below decks with at least 10 trunks of clothes.

It all happened so fast.  Her head is spinning.  Leave it to Orlesians to add this much drama to what was supposed to be a calm meeting with some key members of what remained of the Chantry.  It is dark on the Waking Sea.  The cool breeze blows hair loose from its braid.  She stares at the dark water below in a daze.  She feels it splash her face as waves break against the hull.  Her mark flares, but it doesn’t bother her.  She is used to the pain by now.  It is a pain she feels every time she closes a rift and she has closed a large number of them by now.  She sighs and rubs her palm.

She looks up at the sky.  She can see the stars but in the distance she can see the green glow of the Breach.  Swirling, but calm.  A choice, a big one, is stretched out before her.  A choice she isn’t ready to make, but one she needs to decide before their return to Haven.  She has a few more days at sea and then about 5 days on horseback to make up her mind, but she still doesn’t know if that is enough time to actually decide.  She knows which way she is leaning, but is trying to reserve her final answer until their meeting with Grand Enchanter Fiona.

Staring up at the Breach from this distance makes her think of him.  Cassandra is starting to let her fill out reports on her own as long as she promised to keep it professional.  She remembers the pain she felt having to write to him to tell him what the Order had done.  He may not be a templar anymore, but he still respected them and had friends among them.  She imagined how upset he would be.  Would he be sad?  Angry?  Then her mind brings up her last note to him.

 _Oh no.  Oh why did I let that stupid dwarf convince me to write that note?!  Andraste’s tits!  I don’t know if I can do that!_  She paces the deck of the ship, her heart in her throat.  She is having trouble breathing.  Varric comes up from below deck them to see her approaching a full blown freak out.

“Whoa!  Cub?  What happened?”

“I… why…”

“Easy there.  Breathe.  What brought this on?”

She stops and points a finger in his face, “You!  You did this!”

“Me?  What did I do _now_?”  He leans against the railing.  She lowers her finger.  It wasn’t his fault, she knows that.  He just gave you’re the courage she needed to do it.

“Ok, that’s not fair.  It’s not your fault exactly.  It’s just… well we’ve had this talk, you and I.  Not me and him.   _Hell_ , we’ve hardly talked about anything.  Me and him.  I mean…”  He stops her pacing.

“Calm down and stay still.  You’re making me dizzy.  It was just a note.  Not a promise.  If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.  Correction.  If you aren’t ready to do it, you don’t have to.”

“But what if he’s expecting it?  What if he…”

“Stop.  You’re over thinking this.  Curly cares about you.  If it’s moving too fast for you, he will slow down.  But he won’t know that unless you talk to him.  He’s not a mind reader.  I’m not good at this romantic shit, but I know people.  Be honest with him, in person, not in some letter.  It’s all you can do.”

“But what if he… what if…”  She sighs, “What if he gets mad at me for… I don’t know… leading him on?”

“Are you leading him on?  Or do you have actual feelings for him?  Because it seems to me that you do.  More than just some passing fling.  He’ll see that.  You don’t exactly have the greatest poker face.”

She laughs, “Hey.  That’s not true, I was _this_ close to winning the last game of Wicked Grace.”

He shakes his head, “Almost.  You still lost though.”

“Well, at least I stayed fully clothed.”  They both laugh.

“Come on, Cub.  You’re missing story time with Chuckles.  He just started talking about all the Fade shit he saw at Ostagar.”

“Oh no, wouldn’t want to miss that.”  She winks at him and they go inside.

***

Today is the day.  They are expected back by mid-afternoon.  Josephine is already preparing for the two new members, Leliana desperately trying to get information about what is happening in Redcliffe Village, and there he is standing in her cabin.  He has a thousand things to do as always, but he can’t focus on them.  Her note is burning a hole in his hand as he reads it for the millionth time.  Then his mind shifts.  He thinks about all the things that have developed.  He knows she’ll be overwhelmed.  She might need to talk about all of it.  If that’s what she wanted to do, he is fine with it.

His head throbs.  The lingering headache after yet another nightmare.  The same one as before.  He looks down at the note.  Maybe he shouldn’t let her do that to him even if she still wanted to.  The action is one of the things he associates with his torture.  He shakes his head and sighs.  He places the note on her desk.  He gets an idea.  It’s super romantic and might just take her mind off her troubles.  He picks up the pot by the fireplace, fills it with the fresh bath water, and places it on the hook.  He walks quickly to Seggrit, the merchant in town.  He buys some overpriced candles and dodges all questions about why he needs them.  

He returns to her cabin trying to think of what else he would need.  He sees a book on one of her shelves.  It’s about wild plants and their benefits.  He looks up every plant that he knows of that grows nearby.  Nothing.  He thinks about plants he’s seen in the surrounding area.  Bingo.  He closes the book and walks over to Adan’s cabin

“You wouldn’t happen to have any Embrium would you?”

“Trying your hand at potion making or just like the smell?”  He doesn’t wait for an answer and gives him a handful.

“Thank you.”  Cullen rushes back to the cabin.  He sprinkles the flowers into the bath.   _If I pour the water in, right before leaving for the meeting, then the water should be perfect by the time she gets in here._ He sets the candles up on the shelves around the tub.  He doesn’t light them yet, no sense burning the whole cabin down.  He’ll light them when he comes back.  One last thing.  He leaves the cabin and goes to his tent.  He picks up the shirt he’s been sleeping in every night she’s been gone.  He folds it up and goes back to the cabin.  When he gets there, he sets in on her bed.

He looks around the room, making sure everything is ready.  There is a soft knock on the door.  He picks up her note and shoves it in his pocket.  He opens the door to see Josephine.

“Lady Ambassador?  What can I do for you?”

“May I come in?”  He steps aside to let her in and closes the door.  “Scouts have spotted a caravan coming this way.  It appears that our one of new members needed a coach, I’m sure I can guess which one.  They will be here within the hour.”

He smiles slightly, “They’re ahead of schedule.  Must mean they didn’t run into much trouble on the way in.”

“Indeed.  That’s not why I’m here though.”  He notices that she has a folded piece of fabric in her hands.  “Lady Trevelyan asked me ages ago to look for something for her.  As you know, she lost all of her possessions at the conclave.  Sometime on her way to stabilizing the Breach, she recalls feeling something in her belt and asked me to locate it.  It took longer than I expected, but I managed it.  There are two things here.  I figured you would want to be the one to give them to her.”  She folds out the fold cloth and he takes.

“You put forth all effort, you should be the one…”

“It would mean more coming from you.  Tell her I found them if you like.  But I’ve selected you to be the messenger.”  She glances around the cabin and smiles.  “Planning a romantic evening?”

He blushes and rubs his neck, “I… well…”

She smiles, “I’ll have a fine Antivan port and some food sent over right away.  It’ll be our little secret.”  She turns to leave and stops with her hand on the doorknob. “For what it’s worth, you two are cute together.”  She leaves before he can respond.

He sets the cloth on the desk.   _Should I open it?  Or wait?  Wait.  Whatever it is, is hers and not mine._  He sits in the chair and leans back in it.  He must control himself.  She drives him crazy, lusting after her with every breath.  But he wants more.  He said he wanted to know her.  He knows that she’ll be leaving, possibly before the sunsets, who knows how short their time together would be this time.

A soft knocks against the door interrupts his thoughts.  “Enter!”  A small woman enters with a tray.

“Where would you like to set this up, Commander?”  He stands and moves the barrel by her bed away from the wall.

“This should do.”  She spreads a plush, purple cloth over the barrel.  She sets the tray on top of it.  There are two glasses, grapes, bread and cheese on it.  She pulls the cork out of the bottle of wine and sets it down.  “Lady Josephine said the wine needs to breathe for at least an hour.”  He nods.  “She also instructed me to light these candles for you as your meeting draws to a close.  Everything will be ready before you return.”

“Thank you.”

“She wanted me to tell you that none of this has been written down and I’m not to tell anyone what I’m doing.  She knows how you value your privacy.  She also said that she will insure that no one disturbs you.”

“Our Ambassador is certainly thorough.  Anything else?”

“No, ser.  That was all.”  He nods to her, she curtsies and leaves.  He looks around the room.  He suddenly feels like he is going overboard.  This is a huge gesture.  He’s never done anything like this.  Both relationships he’s had took place in the Circle, where such things were forbidden, especially between mages and templars.  There was no room for romantic gestures.  He runs his gloved hand through the hair.  His nerves build as a few things hit him at once.   _I don’t know her.  Not really.  I know her body, but not her. I could probably only name a handful of things about her.  What if she hates this kind of thing?  What if she thinks I’m just trying to butter her up just to have sex with her?   What if all this makes her feel pressured?  What if she does feel the same as I do?  What if…_

The sound of horse hooves, carriage wheels, and laughter drifts in through the open window.   _It’s too late to change things now.  Stick to the plan._  He pours the boiling water into the tub stirring the soothing smell of the flowers into the air.  He sets the pot by the fireplace.  He heads for the door taking one last look around.  He goes to the cloth package and hides it behind some books. Then leaves.

He stands on the side of the road, blocking the path that leads to her cabin.  Cassandra passes him first.  She smiles, she knows he’s waiting.  Solas passes through the gate without looking at him, heading for his own cabin.  A line of his men come in the gates all carrying trunks.  Following behind them is a stern looking female mage.  She doesn’t even look at him as she passes right by him.  Not even when a few of his men stop and salute.  Then he sees and hears the laughter coming closer.  Varric, Shea, and an elf with short, choppy blonde hair comes through the gates.  Varric sees him first and hooks his arm in the elf’s.  “Come on, Buttercup.  Tavern’s this way.”  Shea goes to follow them and Varric looks back at her, “Don’t you have a meeting or something?”  She groans and turns away from them.

Their eyes meet.  Her ocean blue eyes light up.  As calmly as she can, she walks over to him, “Commander.”

He smirks at her, “Herald.”  He motions up the road, “Shall we?”

They walk together up towards the Chantry.  She steps closer and whispers, “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

He whispers back, “I told you I would meet you at your cabin when you got back.  So, I was.”

“I see that.  I just figured you meant inside it.”

He winks at her, “Oh, that’s still true.” She blushes.  She feels his gloved hand brush against the inside of her palm trailing up the underside of her wrist and then pull away.  There is something in her hand.  It’s a creased piece of paper.  She slowly opens it and her face burns like a wildfire.  Her note.  It takes her a few seconds to see the addition to it.

 

_S.  We have all the time in the world. C._

 

She feels a weight lift from her.  He knows her.  She didn’t even have to say anything, he didn’t have to ask.  From those simple words, she knows.  He isn’t expecting anything from her.  Just her companionship, her company, nothing more.  He will wait for her.  She knows this for certain, but really doesn’t know why.  She glances up at him as they pass through the Chantry doors.  His kind, warm as honey eyes filled with so many emotions.  She knows lust is in there, but something else.  Something stronger?  She can’t place it.  She smiles and he smirks right back.  She lets out a sigh and faces forward.

In her sigh, he can hear that he has released something in her.  If he had to guess, something that was weighing her down.  Fear?  Nerves?  It makes his heart happy regardless.  He opens the war room door for her and closes it behind him as the meetings begins.

***

They have the night.  They want to get to Redcliffe as soon as possible.  Shea can’t decide if she should ask the mages or templars for aid without first knowing what Fiona wanted.  He thinks it is a wise move.  After the events in Val Royeaux, who can say if the templars are even the safe bet anymore?  During the meeting, he learns he has a couple of urgent matters to handle.  They won’t take long, but he doesn’t want her going to her cabin without him. So, he passes her a note.

 

_Have some business. Won’t take long.  Please wait for outside me the Chantry._

 

She looks at him out of the side of her eye and nods as she talks to Cassandra about their plans.  When the meeting ends, he jumps right into handling his business with Leliana and Cassandra.  Shea walks out with Josephine.

She wonders why she can’t just go wait in her cabin, but she said she’d wait outside so she will.  A soldier in strange armor is leaning against the wall.  She goes over to him and he straightens.

“Excuse me?  I can’t seem to get anyone to talk to me.”

“Really?  That’s surprising.  What can I do for you…?”

He offers out his hand, “Lieutenant Cremisius Aclassi of the Bull’s Chargers mercenary company.  My commander, The Iron Bull, wanted me to set up a meeting with the Inquisition.”

She shakes his hand, “Shea Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste.”

He chuckles, “So, you’re her?”

“So they say.  Tell me about these ‘Bull’s Chargers’.”  She and Krem, what he asked her to call him, discuss the company and what The Iron Bull is looking for.  Shea agrees to meet them on the Storm Coast after they handle some business in Redcliffe.  Then Krem salutes her and leaves.  She goes back into the Chantry and enters the war room.  She really liked Krem, he seemed like good people, and so instead of asking to go to the Storm Coast, she makes it sound like an order.  She tells them why and no one argues.  Cassandra says she’ll map it out.  She nods and goes back to waiting outside.

They stand there in silence.  Stunned.  Leliana smiles, “She’s grown.”

Cassandra nods, “I think we’ve finally found our leader.  But we’ll wait until the Breach is sealed.”

Cullen doesn’t say anything.  If she accepts, that will make her is boss.  He is having a hard time keeping things professional as it is, but if she is his boss, he’ll feel even more pressure to keep things professional.  He better start working on his self-control now.  They decide that is probably a good place to wrap up.  They exchange goodbyes and Cullen goes to meet Shea.

“I’m right where you asked me to be.  As promised.”  She smiles causing a smile to break across his face.

“Never doubted you.  I have a surprise for you.”

“Oooooh… I like surprises.  Especially ones from you.”  She watches him blush and rub his neck.

“Follow me.”  She follows him down the path to her cabin.  Out of the corner of her eye, Varric and Sera, the new elf, are giving her huge thumbs up.  Then Sera falls over in a fit of laughter into a pile of snow.  She blushes and laughs.  He looks over to her, “Something funny?”

“Just...”  She points to a very drunk Varric trying to pull on Sera’s leg to get her out of the snow.  

Cullen lets out a burst of laughter.  “Well, she seems fun.”

They reach the cabin and she reaches for the doorknob.  He grabs her hand stopping her. “What?”

“Close your eyes.”  She does.  “No peeking.”

“You have my word, Commander.”  He turns the knob and backs in holding her hands to guide her.  She inhales the flowery scent in the air.  She heart races.  He stands her in the center of the room and closes the door.  She hears the bolt as he locks the door.  He moves to stand next to the makeshift table.  “Alright, open your eyes.”

She slowly opens her eyes.  The fire is low, the room is dim, though it is the middle of the day.  Her breath catches in her throat as she takes in the romantic setting.  Her voice barely above a whisper, “Cullen.  This is…”

“Is it too much?  It’s too much.  I shouldn’t have…”  She rushes forward and hugs him.

“It’s perfect.”  He sighs.

“Good… I’m glad.  First order of business then.”  He steps back from her. “Wait here.”  He goes behind the half wall where she can’t see him.  While she waits, she takes a piece of cheese from the tray and eats it.  He comes up behind her and kisses her neck.  She turns to face him.  He’s changed out of his armor.  He is barefoot, wearing loose black pants and a white shirt that isn’t laced up.  Her hand goes up to his chest, twisting some of his hair between her fingers.

“Second order of business.”  He motions to the bath.  She smiles and starts removing her armor.  He helps her.  When she is down to her band and smallclothes, he turns his back to her.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to be a gentleman.  Also, if I want us to do everything I have planned, I must control myself.”  She chuckles.

“Alright.”  She removes the rest of her clothes, her cheeks warm and blood pumping.  She sticks her finger in the water.  “It’s perfect.  What is that in the water?”

“Embrium.  It is said to make a very relaxing bath.”  She slides into the water, stirring more fragrance into the air.

“Mmmm.  Whoever said that was right.”  She leans against the tub wall.  He turns and kneels behind her.  His mouth presses against her ear, “Comfortable?”

“Mmm-hmmm.”  He gently takes the pins from her hair, releasing the braids.  Then he gently unbraids them all.  He runs his fingers through her hair removing the tangles.  She relaxes her head against the edge of the tub, her eyes closed.  His hand tenderly raises her head and moves her forward.  He lets her hair fall into the water.  She lowers herself below the surface.  When she rises, he begins washing her hair.  Her soft moans making his blood boil.  His erection pressing against the outside of the metal bath.  He ignores it.  Once her hair has been cleaned, she lowers into the water to wash out the soap.

He rolls up his sleeves.  Then changes his mind.  He removes the shirt completely tossing it over by the door.  He runs his fingers through her wet hair, combing it out.  She feels his hand trail across her face as he changes his position.  He leans against the side of the bath.  She opens her eyes, his bare chest has water dripping down it from washing her hair.  She leans up to touch him and he places a hand against her chest to lower her back down.  “I’m not done yet.”  

She watches him lather soap in his hands.   _Oh Maker.  He’s not going to…_  He reaches into the water and pulls one of her legs up.  He starts washing her foot.  Not just washing but massaging.  Her hands grip the edge of the tub.  She is losing the control she been desperately clinging to.  She wants to touch him, to be close to him.  She wants him is this bath with her.  Her skin is on fire and every touch sends little shocks through her.  He washes each leg, each arm, her back.  He’s avoiding all of her sensitive areas.  She is panting with her need for him.

He is fighting a war within himself.  But the sounds of pleasure coming from her are making him lose his resolve.  As he is massaging her shoulders, she lightly grabs his wrist.  She doesn’t force his hand to move, but she gives the smallest tug and drops her hands back into the water.   _Fuck it.  She did just ask me to._  He slides hands down and washes her breasts.  Massaging all around.  He washes her stomach. Her legs fall open in the water.  An invitation.  One he gladly accepts.  He slides his hand down.  The back of her head pressing into his chest.  When he makes contact, she slides her hands up his arms, across his shoulders, and then weave into his hair.  He wraps an arm around her chest and lifts her so her head falls back onto his shoulder.  He kisses her neck and nibbles her ear.

His movements are slow, but deliberate.  She places her mouth against his earlobe.  He feels her hot breath against his neck.  He inserts his fingers inside her.  She moans loudly into his ear. His grip around her chest tightens.  He fights to keep his movement steady.  She presses her lips against his skin.  He listens to her take one swallow breath after another.  Her hands move from his hair and she grabs tightly to the arm wrapped around her.  Her nails dig in.  She is close.  She breathes into his ear, “Cullen.”

He closes his eyes and sucks on her neck.  She moans repeatedly into his ear.  He moans against her neck.  The muscles in his arms bulge as he continues his fight for control.  With one hand still gripping his arm, she grabs a fist full of his hair and pulls.  He groans loudly.  He slowly increases the speed of his touch.  She gasps and pulls his hair.  She presses her lips hard against his jaw.  He breathes against her, “Oh Maker.”  She opens her eyes to look at him.  His face is red, the veins in his neck and arm are bulging.  His skin glistens from the water dripping from her skin.  

She bites her lip.  She whispers, “Look at me.”

He turns his head slowly.  She can see him fighting to control himself.  He opens his eyes and lifts his head.  His eyes met hers.  His hand squeezes her as he moves his fingers as deep as he can get them. “Oh.  Cullen.  I’m…”  She inhales sharply.  She feels his arm tremble.  His breaths are short and shallow.  She holds his gaze.  His eyes bright like molten steel.  She fights to hold onto his spare arm as her body spasms.  He feels her tighten around his fingers, sees it in her eyes, the cry escaping her lips.  He holds his breath, his whole body tightens.  She places he hand on his face.  He moans loudly.  They finish at the same time.  As her body relaxes, his head falls to her shoulder.  They are panting for air.

She feels him chuckle.  “What is it?”

He kisses her shoulder, “That’s not…”  He inhales deeply and lets it out in a huff.  “That’s not what I had planned.”  He removes his fingers from inside her and leans back.  She spins in his arm to face him.  Her hands on either side of his face.

“You’re trembling.  Are you ok?”  He nods.  “Are you sure?”  He nods.

“I’m sure.  I’m _great_ , in fact.”  He opens his eyes and sees the concern written all over her face.  “Hey.”  He leans forward pressing his forehead against hers.  He is still breathless.  “Seriously.  You don’t need to be alarmed.  I’m… perfect.”  She sighs.  “You… don’t know the power you have over me.  I… uh... couldn’t contain myself.  If… you… get my meaning.”

He lets it sink in.  He sees it click in her mind.  “Oh!  Oh… you…”  He nods.  “But I barely touched you.”

“You touched enough.”  He kisses her forehead and stands.  Her eyes fall to the large bulge in his pants.  He picks up a towel, holding it open for her.  She carefully stands and steps from the bath.  He wraps the towel around her.  He smiles at her.  “You dry off.  While in get the next part ready.”

“You mean there’s more?”  He nods.  He turns away from her, walking over to the makeshift table while she quickly dries off.  She wrings out her hair into the tub and shakes it.  She walks up behind him.  She touches his back.  Her fingers trace his scars.  She wonders how he got them.  He faces her, a folded shirt in his hands.

“Put this on.  It’s a replacement for the one I ruined.”  She drops the towel watching a blush rise in his cheeks.  He sits on the bed taking in her fully naked body for the first time.  She smiles at him.

“Are you sure you want me to put this on?”

He sighs, “I have… have plans for tonight and… if you don’t…”  

She puts the shirt on.  The scent of flowers replaced by his strong smell.  She presses the sleeve against her face and inhales deeply.  “Mmmm.”

“Come here.”  He pats the bed beside him.  She sits next to him.  “Hungry?”

“Starved.”  He pours some wine into the glasses and hands her one.  “Cheers.”  They clink glasses and drink.

“Oh, that’s good.  What is it?”

“Some Antivan port.  I’ve never been good with the names.  But I think it’s from Josephine’s private stash.”  She drinks again, the wine staining her lips.

“So, what’s the next step?”  She grabs a handful of cheese and eats a few pieces.

“Well…  I… I thought we could talk.  Get to know one another.”

“I’d like that.  What do you want to know?”

“Everything, but since there’s probably not enough time for that, how about… Do you have any siblings?”

“Two.  Older brothers.  Brandon and Emeric.  I wrote them, but I haven’t heard anything back.  You?”

“Yes.  Three.  Mia is my older sister.  Branson is my younger brother.  Rosalie is the youngest.  I don’t write them as often as I should.”

“Are you close?”

“Not really.  Mia writes me more than the others.  They are all pretty close though.  They all live in South Reach.  You?”

“Extremely.  Brandon, as the eldest, will be Bann someday and acts like it.  Confident, strong.  Emeric is the opposite. He’s a big teddy bear.  I miss them dearly.  I trained alongside them for a time.  But when I started to favor two handed weapons, we stopped.  They didn’t want me hurting them.”

“Did you beat them often?”

“Oh every time!”  They laugh.  “I was mostly trained by my uncle, when he wasn’t doing his job of course.  He kept trying get me to use a shield, like most templars, but it never stuck.”

“You’ve mentioned that before.  You were going to be a templar?”  She nods, “Was that your choice?”

“It was either that or become a cloistered sister.  Which would you have chosen?”

He laughs, “I think you know which one I chose.”

“Right.  And you served in Kirkwall.”

“I started at Kinloch Hold, but moved to Kirkwall after the Blight.”

“I know about the hell hole that Kirkwall was.  Was Kinloch the same way?”

He goes silent and sips his wine.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No… I… If it’s alright, I’m not quite ready to talk about those parts of my past.  It’s…”

She puts up her hand, “I shouldn’t have asked.  You have emotional scars, and I’m assuming that’s what’s tied to your nightmares.  You don’t have to address them either.  But I want you to know, that whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

“Thank you.  That does however limit the things you can ask about me.  I joined when I was 13.  And I’m definitely older than that now.”

“Then maybe you should be the one asking me questions.  For you, no subject is off limits.”

“You might regret saying that.”

“Try me.”

“Alright,” he eats while he thinks.  “Hmmm… before coming to Ferelden for the Conclave, where is the farthest you’ve traveled?”

“Kirkwall.  I told you that I went with my uncle to help out?  Well, that’s was also my first time out of Ostwick.”

“Really?  And your first thought was to go to a disaster area?”

“People needed help.  There are a lot of forgotten and displaced people when disaster hits.  My father is Bann of Ostwick.  When Fereldans fleeing the Blight were being forced back onto ships at Kirkwall, my father opened our borders to the ones who made it to our shores.  He even took them in when Starkhaven started turning them away.  He set aside some of our family land for them.   He said, ‘They have been through enough.  Let them set up a new home for themselves.  A tiny piece of Ferelden in the Free Marches.’  He’s always encouraged me to help others when I could, so when I heard my uncle and some of his men were going, I begged to go.”

“You’re father sounds like a great man.”

She scoffs, “One of his small moments of kindness.  Every other day he was a hard ass.  He got onto Emeric and I most.  ‘That’s not the Trevelyan way.’  He was furious when I brought Moira home with me from Kirkwall.”

“Moira?”

“She’s my best friend.  I rescued her.  She’s Dalish.  Her clan was killed by darkspawn as they fled the Blight.  Somehow she made it to Kirkwall.  The city scared her.  Shems everywhere, tall buildings.  She was a child.  10?  Maybe 12?  I don’t know.  She’d never been to a shem city before.  The city elves didn’t feel like her people.  So, she would sneak into the Chantry at night to sleep.  She was lucky to have been blocked off in the Docks when it exploded.  She hid there while the fighting happened.  Then she made her way to Lowtown and hung out outside the Hanged Man.  She wasn’t begging per se.  As she was afraid of shems.  When I first met her, I thought she only spoke Elven.”

“If she was so afraid, how were you able to help her?”

“Unlike most nobles, I pack light.  I had my sword, the clothes on my back, and entire bag full of bread.  Our kitchen elves were all too happy to load it full.  Especially when I told them I wasn’t packing anything else.  That and I am always kind to them.  Food,” she grabs a hunk of cheese and shoves it in her mouth, “Is the path to friendship.”

He smiles, “And she went with you back home?”

“She clung to my dress everywhere.  I wasn’t that much older than her.  Any time I tried to go back to Hightown where we were staying she would say, ‘Aneth ara.  Ma falon.’  Which means, ‘My safe place.  My friend.’  Didn’t know that at the time, but it tore at my heart to see the little redheaded elf cry so.  Honestly, if I hadn’t refused to leave Kirkwall without her, my uncle would have made me leave her.”

“You speak elven?”

“Moira taught me.  I’m told my pronunciation is horrible.  I can read and write it though.  Oh!  You should have seen Solas’ face when I was able to read a glyph we found.  Priceless.”

“Why was your father mad?  He helped all those refugees, why not one more?”

“She wasn’t hired.  When servants are hired, they are city elves.  They are trained to know their place.  Every Dalish he ever met was wild and deadly.  But again, I stood my ground.  Which was much harder than standing up to my uncle.  I was so afraid he’d just turn me over to the templars right then.  But he didn’t.  He said if she caused a problem it would fall on me.  I was fine with that.”

“Where is she now?”

She sighs, “I don’t know.  Father never liked her.  And if he ever finds out my brother has a thing for her…  I wrote her, but she hasn’t responded.  I worry about her every day.”

He places a hand on her knee.  She places her hand on top of his.  “You know.  We could send scouts.  Have them find her.  See why no one is responding to your letters.”

“Really?”

“Of course!  You are the Herald of Andraste.  I mean look at what happened today.  You told us you were going to the Storm Coast to meet some mercenary company.  We didn’t even question it.  We just made it happen.  If you tell Leliana to send scouts to Ostwick, she will send scouts to Ostwick.  Our spymaster is better at her job than anyone.  If she can’t find out what’s happening, no one can.”

“I’ll have to do that then.  I mean that was what… nearly two months ago?  You think my father at least would have thanked me for informing him my uncle died and returning his ashes to him.”  Worry creeps into her face.  “I hope nothing has happened to them because of all this templar stuff.”

“Hey.  I’m sure they’re fine.”

“Then maybe they hate me like Great Uncle Whatshisface?  Do you have any idea what it feels like to have a member of your own family spit at you?  In front of an audience no less?”

“If your brothers are what you say they are, then they won’t feel that way.  I forgot to tell my sister I moved to Kirkwall.  I got angry letter two years later, but she never hated me.”

She sighs, “I’m sorry.  I just… you know… I’ve got all this shit resting on my shoulders and I’m not sure how to handle it all.  Like who am I supposed to have aid us?  I was leaning towards the templars, I still am, but after Val Royeaux, I find it hard to reach out to people who clearly hates me.  It’s the only reason I want to find out what Fiona wants.  I don’t have much experience with mages.  I can name exactly two mages who haven’t tried to kill me.  Well… I did just meet Fiona.  So three!  I can name three mages who haven’t tried to kill me.”

“Shhh.  Come back here.”  When had she started pacing?  He grabs her hand and pulls her towards him.  “If you want to vent, that’s fine.  I’m here for you to vent at.  Though I was hoping to escape the Inquisition for a little bit.”  She sighs and sits next to him.  “But… before we move past this.  I agree with your plan so far.  Find out why Fiona was in Val Royeaux.  Find out what she wants in exchange for the mages’ help.  If you don’t like what she has to say, we go to the templars and try to talk some sense into them.”

“How are you so good at that?”

“At what?”

“Saying exactly what I need to hear?”

“It’s a gift.”

She leans it close to him.  He gasps.  She leans away.  “What?  What happened?”

He stands quickly and sets his glass down.  “Oh, sorry.  I just remembered something.  I have something for you.”

“Like a gift?”

“Sort of.” He moves some books out of the way and pulls out the cloth package.  He slowly walks over to her and sits.  “I’m just the messenger.  I can’t take any credit for this.  She put a lot of work into find this for you.”  She takes it from him.

“Do you know what’s in it?”  He shakes his.  She slowly unfolds the cloth.  She covers her mouth, tears springing from her eyes.  He places his hands on her knees.  She lays the cloth on the bed between them so that he can see.  Sitting on the cloth is a signet ring and a small carved necklace in the shape of a halla.  “She found more than I asked for.”

“What are they?”

She picks up the ring and slides it on her finger.  “It’s my signet ring.  I take it off and put in a pouch when I’m fighting.  It gets in the way.  I felt it while picking elfroot with Cassandra at the temple.  But this… I didn’t know I had this on me.”  She picks up the halla.  It is white with silver markings, a delicate silver chain is connected to it.

“What is the significance of the halla necklace?  It seems slightly odd that an Andrastian would have one.”  He helps her put it on.

“Moira.  It is the only thing she has left of her Clan.  Her keeper made it for her.  He carved it from ironbark, left it in the sun to bleach it, and then painted it with the ink they use for vallaslin, the face tattoos.  He said that when she was old enough, her vallaslin would be silver, because she is pure of heart.  She thinks he made it because he knew that she would never receive hers.  I… I didn’t know she gave it to me.”

“I think Josephine found it in your old belt.”  Her arms fly around him.  He instinctively responds by wrapping his arm around her.  He feels tears hit his chest as she presses her cheek against him.  “Are you alright?”  She nods.  “Then why are you crying?”

“Because I’m a stupid girl.”

He laughs.  “You are far from stupid.”  He strokes her hair as she calmly cries.  “It was not part of my plan to make you cry.”

“These are good tears, I promise.”

“I should have waited…”

She pulls away to look up at him.  “Even if she had been brave enough to gives this to me herself, I would have refused.  It’s all she has left of your people.  She’s telling me that… _I’m_ her people.  It’s touching.  I would have cried either way.”

He brushes the tears from her face.  “I hate seeing you cry.”  She sniffles.  “Maker, you’re beautiful.”

Her tears stop and she blinks the remainder away.  “What did you just say?”

He smirks, “I said, you are beautiful.”  He sits up on his knees.  She does the same.  He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her against him.  She mirrors him, then places one hand on his bicep.  He pushes her hair behind her ear and rests his hand underneath her ear.  He leans in. She tilts her head up.  His nose brushes against hers.  She can feel his warm breath, smelling wine as she inhales.

Someone knocks loudly on the door.  He growls, “Maker.”  

She puts her hand on his face, “Ignore it.”  They knock again.  

He growls.  “She promised.”  

“Who promised?”  The door rattles violently as they bang on it.  

He stands, charges the door, unbolts it, throws it open, and screams, “What do you want?!”  The scout backs away.  Completely shocked at both Cullen and Shea’s state of undress.  Not to mention a very, angry Commander screaming at him.  “Well?!”

“I’m… I’m… I’m… sorry, ser.  I know you were not to be disturbed… but…

“Then why have you?!”  Shea has to fight her laughter.  She covers her mouth, sniggering behind it.

“Well, ser… we… we…”

“Out with it?!”  

Shea calls over, “Be nice to the poor man.”

He sighs, “To what to do we owe this interruption?”

“There’s a visitor, ser.  For the Herald.  He refuses to speak to anyone else.”  Shea snatches her cloak from the floor and wraps it around her to cover herself.  She gently moves Cullen from the door frame.

“Did he give you name at least?”  The scout shakes his head.  She thinks for a moment, “Ok.  Did he give you anything that would make this not feel like a trap?”  He scout holds out his closed fist to her.  She holds out her hand and he drops something round and metal into it.  She looks down at it then closes her fist.  “I’ll be right there.”  She slams the door closed and rushes to get dressed.

“What?  What it is?”

She hands him the ring.  He looks at it.  It’s a man’s ring and looks exactly like hers.  He sets in on the bed and rushes to change himself.  They help each other put their armor on in a hurry.  They both blow out all the candles.  She grabs the ring off the bed and grabs her sword from by the door.  She hangs it on her back and flings the door open.  The scout is still standing outside.  “This way.”  She runs after the scout, her hair flying behind her, Cullen right on her heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope all this fluff isn't annoying anyone lol.
> 
> UPDATED July 20, 2018


	17. Resistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens :D

They burst through the Chantry doors.  Shea doesn’t wait to be addressed, “Where is he?!”

Cassandra runs to meet her halfway down the main hall.  “Herald, before I let you seen him, you need to know.  He’s been injured.  We don’t know how badly or who did it.  He won’t talk to us.  All he will say is that he demands to see the Herald of Andraste.  He won’t let Adan near him.  He gave us his ring when we asked who he was.”

“He’s family.  Now move.”  Cassandra steps out of her way.  Shea throws open the sick room door.  Her heart hits the floor.  A young man lies beaten and bloody on the bed.  One of his eyes is swollen shut.  Cullen grabs her shoulders as she sways to steady her.  She walks into the room and touches the man’s arm.  He opens his good eye.  “Shea!”  He hugs her and winces.  She wraps her arm around him gently.

“Emeric.  What happened?”  He lays back on the bed.  Cullen pulls the chair over and makes her sit.  She takes Emeric’s hand in hers.  Cullen places his hands on her shoulders.

“I was ambushed on the road somewhere between here and Jadar.  I don’t know who they were.  It was dark.  They stole my horse, my stuff, and left me for dead.  I bandaged myself the best I could and I walked…”  He winces again.

“You can tell me the rest later.  Please let my people look at you.  You can trust them.”  Her mark flares and he looks at it with wide eyes.  She closes her fist around it.  “I’ll explain that later.  Just please.”  He nods.

She releases his hand and stands storming into the hallway.  Cullen shadowing her.  “Adan.  He’ll accept your help.”  He goes in the room with his arms full of supplies.  “Someone go get Solas and Vivienne.”  Two scouts run off.  “And someone bring lyrium.”  Another scout runs off.  She starts walking out of the Chantry.  Cullen follows her.

“Where are you going?”

She growls, “To find the bastards who did this to my brother.”  He stands in front of her stopping her progress.  “Please move.”

Feeling eyes on them, he switches to his formal voice, “Herald.  It will be dark soon.  We have no way of knowing where these people are.”

Angry tears spill over her lashes, “I.  Don’t.  Care.  Please.  Move.”

“Herald.”  He gets closer to her and whispers, “Shea.  At first light, I will have my men trace your brother’s steps.  They will find who did this.  But right now, your brother needs you.  Focus on him.  He may know something else that the pain and blood loss are preventing him from remembering.  Now, take a deep breath.”  She does.  “And again.”  She does.  “One more.”  She does and sighs.  “Good.  Now.  He said he was attacked between here and Jadar.  That’s about four days ride from here.  Double that when walking.  He didn’t stop in any villages along the way or our scouts would have seen him.  Wounded like he is, it will not be hard to trace his steps.  You have my word.  We will find them.”

Vivienne arrives first.  “You summoned me, dear.”  Shea takes a deep calming breath.  “Yes.  I need you and Solas to help heal my brother.”

She touches her chest, “Your brother?”

“Yes.  He’s been injured.  Badly.  Adan can only do so much.  He will need magic.”

“Say no more.  I’ll get started.”

“If you need it, lyrium is on the way.”  She nods and passes into the room.

Solas isn’t far behind.  “What is it, Herald?  It sounded urgent.”

“You remember me telling you about Emeric?”  He nods.  “He’s hurt and…”

“I understand.”  Solas rushes into the room.

She sighs turning her brother’s ring between her fingers.  Cullen looks around before placing a finger under her chin.  She looks up at him.  “He will be ok.”

“I really need to hit something.  But… I don’t want to leave him.”

He smirks, “You will have plenty to hit on the road.”  She groans.  “What?”

“How can I possibly leave now?”

“Shea… it really hurts me to say this, but… you have to.  It is your duty.”  He sees the pain ripple across her face.  “I know.  Believe me, I know.  I will check on him every single day, multiple times a day.  I will write reports and send them ahead so that when you get to camp, it’ll be the first thing you read.  I will not let him die on you.  Do you understand me?”  She nods.

Screams come from the room and her blood freezes.  Solas peaks his head out, “Herald!  We need you!”  Shea spins away from Cullen and runs in the room.

“Don’t let the mages touch me!  Shea!”  She sits next to him on the bed.

“Emeric!  Emeric!  Calm down.  Everything is fine.  I’m here.  These are my friends.  They won’t hurt you.”  His eyes meets hers.  They are the same blue.  He shakes his head.

She turns to the group.  “Dagger.”  And holds out her hand.  Adan hands her one.  She raises her unmarked hand in Emeric’s face.  “Watch.  Ok?  Watch.”  She drags the dagger across her palm slicing it open.  “Watch.”  His eyes follows her bleeding hand as she holds it out to Solas.  He summons his magic in his hands.  Emeric tries to back away.  “Shh.  Just watch.”  Solas heals her hand.  Only a fine pink line remains.  She shows it to Emeric.  “See.  He didn’t hurt me.  These mages are my friends.  They will help you.  You must let them.  Please.”

Solas whispers, “We can give him something to make him sleep, if that helps.”  Shea holds out her hand for it while holding her brother’s eye contact.  He places a flask in her hand.  She pulls the cork.  “Drink this, brother.  It will help you sleep.  Please.”  She helps him sit up enough to drink it and helps him lay back down.  Within a few seconds, he passes out.  She sighs.

“That was fast thinking on your part, my dear.  Showing him that a mage can do good instead of just telling him.  What happens when he wakes and you aren’t here, I wonder?”

Solas shoots a look at Vivienne, which she ignores.  Shea stands.  “I suppose I’ll have to write him a note.  I’ll leave it with the Commander.  He’s a former templar, my brother will trust him.”  She offers the dagger back to Adan.  “Did he hurt you?”

“Oh no.  He was just spooked.  Lady Mage summoned the tiniest ball of light and he freaked.”  He takes the dagger and places it back on his belt.

Solas turns to Vivienne, “Would you take the first round?”  She nods and summons her magic.  “A word?”  Shea follows Solas out.  Cullen is leaning next to the door.  Shea motions with her finger for him to follow.  “You mentioned in our travels, that you and your brothers were fairly secluded, yes?”

She nods, “Except Brandon.  As heir he had to go out and mingle.  Emeric went with him a few times, but yeah.  Pretty much.”

“How did you react to the first mage you saw?”

“Well, the first mage I ever saw threw a fireball at my head.  So we killed him.”  She looks down.

Solas nods at her, “And then you met me at that rift.  I saw your fear.  Until I helped you close that rift, you weren’t sure if I was going to kill you or not.  Based on his reaction, I think he was attacked by mages.”

Cullen nods, “I would have to agree.  But it’s more than that.  I… You sent him a letter two months ago.  If he was coming here, why then did it take him so long?  I’ve only… seen… fear like that…”  He squeezes the bridge of his nose.  This was not how he wanted to tell her. “I’ve only felt terror like that when I was tortured at Kinloch.”  Both Shea and Solas snap their attention to him.

Shea’s heart drops.  He was tortured?  Was he saying her brother was tortured?  “Tortured?”

He nods, “I would rather not go into details.  Just saying that was hard enough.”

Solas thinks a moment then rubs his chin, “Certain types of blood magic could wipe a mind.  Make you forget what actually happened.  But a mind is complex, the memories remain.  Buried deep in the subconscious.  So, the victim, not knowing what really happened, lashes out at that which has caused them pain.”

Cullen nods, “It would train them to fear magic.  All magic.  Including your mark.”

Shea clutches her marked hand to her chest.  “You think…?”

Cullen sighs, “I’m afraid so.  It would be a long shot, but if someone knew that he was your brother, they could have tortured him, until he feared all types of magic, then buried the memories.  By doing that, they create an inside man.  Someone close to you.  Someone you trust.  Then after he is well and has healed…”

Shea shakes her head violently, “No.  No.  No.  No.  No.  That… Can we fix him?”

“While we heal him, I can try to reverse what they did to hide the memories.  There is only so much I can do, as I’m not a blood mage.”

Cullen closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths.  His headache throbs.  He squeezes the bridge of his nose.  He is losing himself.  His mental scars opening to swallow him whole.  Neither of them can see it.  His mask is well in place, but if he listens to this conversation any longer, it won’t be.

Vivienne emerges from the room.  “Your turn.”  She finds a chair and sits in it.  Solas nods and briefly touches Shea’s arm.  He goes in to work on her brother.  Shea feels lost.  Two men she knows, tortured by mages.  No wonder he didn’t want to talk about his past.  She looks over at him now.  He looks like he’s pain.  No one else can see it.  But having studied his face for so long.  She feels like an expert on its subtleties.

She’s tired and helpless.  She wants him to hold her.  She wants to hold him.  He feels her touch his arm.  “Come on.”  He rubs his eyes and follows her out the Chantry.  She stops and looks a scout dead in the eyes.  “If anything changes that requires my immediate attention before morning, come get me.  Until then, no one.  And I _mean_ no one is to disturb me.  Understood?”

He salutes, arm across his chest, “Yes, Herald.” 

She goes to the cabin and opens the door.  She lets Cullen enter behind her before closing and bolting it.  She goes over to the wine and downs what’s left in her glass.  She holds out his glass to him.  He does the same.  She puts the cork in the bottle and sets it on her desk, along with glasses.  She pushes the makeshift table back against the wall.  “Sit.”  He sits on the bed, rubbing his temples.  She places another log on the fire to brighten and warm the pitch black room.  She goes back to him.  “Are you alright?”

He smirks, “I should be asking you that.  But… yes… I just have a headache.”

“Then allow me to help you.”  She starts removing his armor, “Don’t get any big ideas, Commander.”  He smiles.  “So… how comfortable do you want to be?”  He chuckles, she playfully hits him.  “Not like that.”

He points.  “Just hand me those pants over there.  I can take care of the rest.”  She picks them up and turns back to him.

“You know, I beginning to notice something very lopsided in this whole arrangement.”

“How so?”

“Well, while you wear these,” She waves the pants at him, “I wear this.”  She picks up the shirt and waves it at him.

“Your point?”

“These,” waves pants, “are far less see-thru than this,” waves shirt.  “It seems to me that something doesn’t add up here.”

“Are you asking me to not wear pants?”

“Maybe.  What if I am?”

He stands and walks closer to her.  He’s still wearing most of his armor.  “Well, I would say that’s… fair.  So, let’s make a deal.  You change into this.”  Moves her hand to wave the shirt.  “And only this. Then I won’t wear these.”  He yanks the pants for her hand and throws them into the corner.

“I think I can work with those terms.  Who goes first?”

He points to the bed.  “Sit.”  She skips over to it and sits.  He removes his mantle with a flourish, making her giggle.  He throws it in the corner with his pants.  He slowly unbuckles each piece of armor, setting each piece carefully on the floor.  Once the metal is removed, he slowly removes his belt, sword still hanging from it.  He pulls off each glove, letting them fall to the floor.  Lifting from the bottom hem, he peels off his padded shirt.  He watches her shift on the bed.  He pulls off his boots and socks.  He runs his thumbs on the inside of his waist band and winks at her.  She turns bright red.  His unlaces his padded pants and slides them as slow as he can over his hips.

She bites her lip, “You are an evil, evil man.”  He smirks and pulls them all the way down, stepping out of them.  He stands in the center of the room in nothing but his smallclothes.  He walks towards her.  She runs her hand up his bare thighs to his hips.  Then snakes them around to grab his ass.  He cradles her face in his hands and makes her stand.  “Your turn.”  He brushes his nose against hers and sits on the bed.

She suddenly feels very self-conscious and she isn’t sure why.  He’s seen her naked.  So why did she have butterflies in her stomach?  She walks across the room and stands in the same place he did.  She knew she wouldn’t as smooth at taking off her armor as he was.  He had years of practice.  But a deal’s a deal.  She removes the sword from her back and leans it against the wall.  She unstraps the buckles of her armor, trying to go slowly, but mostly just fumbling with them.  She sighs when all the metal is removed.  She takes off her gloves and drops them on the floor.  He scoops back on the bed leaning against the wall.  His headache forgotten and his erection grows.  He wants her to look at him, but watching her struggle is both amusing and sexy.  She takes off her belt.  Then her boots and socks.  Taking a page from his book, she grabs her shirt by the hem and lifts it over her head.  How the hell did he do this?  She’s stuck.  She hears him laugh.  Then footsteps come towards her.  “Are you here to rescue me?”

He laughs.  “You have to untie it before you do that.”  The lowers the shirt back down and unties the laces.  “Want to try again?  Or should I just finish all this for you?”

She swallow hard.  “Um… I don’t know?”

“You don’t know?”

“I…”  She sighs.  She feels insecure.  Apparently taking her own clothes off when he’s watching is harder than she imagined.

“Allow me.”  He grabs the hem of her shirt and lifts it over her head.  _Yep.  This is way better._   He slowly unlaces her pants and slowly slides them down.  She steps out of them.  He steps forward, pressing against her.  He continues to advance, backing her into the wall.

“I thought we said no funny business.”

He kisses her neck, “Who’s laughing?”  He kisses down her neck and then stops.  He hisses slightly and stands.

“What?”

“I forgot about my headache. It chose this moment to remind me that it wasn’t gone.”

She walks toward him.  She does the same that he did to her.  She continues walking, pressed up against him, until he gets to the bed.  She gently shoves him and he falls backwards onto the bed.  “Then allow me.”  She takes a deep breath.  He props himself up on his elbows.  Her legs are still pressed against his.  She takes another deep breath, removing her breast band as she exhales.  He sits up fully.  Running his hands up her back.

“Our deal isn’t complete, ser.”

He nestles his face between her beasts, “I’ll consider your end kept.”  She laughs.  “This just means you can’t put the shirt on now.”

“Oh I see.  So you’re amending our bargain?”

“Mmm-hmmm.  I like this better.”  He wraps his arms around her waist.  She runs her fingers through his hair.  It almost sounds like he purrs.

“Are we sleeping?  Or do I have to stand all night?”

Without removing his face, he pulls back the covers.  He wraps his arm tightly around her waist and stands.  Picking her up.  She grabs him back and she hangs on.  He gently lowers her to the bed.  His arm bulging from the effort.  He lowers the rest of his body on top of her.  Then reaches back with one hand to pull the covers over them.  She laughs.  “And not once did you move her face.  I actually kind of impressed.”

“What can I say?  I’m talented.”  She runs his fingers through his hair.  “Mmmm.”

“How’s your head?”

“Still hurts.”

“Does this help?”

“Mmm-hmmm.”

She lays there for a few moments.  She has never been able to fall asleep on her back.  And if he falls asleep, she’s going to have to stare at the ceiling till morning.  She smirks.  She wraps her legs around him.  He shifts to get more comfortable.  She drags her fingernails across his scalp.

He groans, “Not fair.”

“Oh, you are still awake.  Good.  Since today was about getting to know each other, and what we’re doing is a bit of a distraction before sleeping, I have something I’d like to share.”

He sighs and reluctantly rises his head to look her.  “Yes?”

“I can’t sleep on my back.  At all.”

There’s a slight whine in his voice, “Really?”  He pushes himself up so he is sitting on his knees.  He looks down at her.  Her hair if fanned out on the pillow.  Her breasts exposed to the fire’s glow.  Her legs wrapped around him.  _No.  Sleep.  It’s sleep time._ “Then what is your preference?”

She thinks watching his eyes move up and down her body.  “Well, I usually sleep on my stomach.  I don’t know how to sleep with another person.  Except for sleeping on your chest.”

“Hmmm.”  He lifts her leg and moves it to meet the other.  He lowers himself to hover over her and falls onto his side.  He opens his arms to her, “Pick a direction.”  Since her moved her legs, her back is mostly to him.

“This one’s good.”  He wraps his arm around her and pulls her to him.  He moves her hair so that it is out of his face.  He shifts one arm so that her neck rests on it.  She takes his free hand and holds it to chest.  Hugging it to her.  He moves a little closer to her.  She feels his length press against her ass.  She chuckles. 

“What?”

“Oh.  Nothing.”  He kisses the back of her neck and then the top of her shoulder.  He buries his face in the nap of her neck.  Then settles in.

“Good night.” 

She smiles.  “Comfortable?”

“Yes.  You?”

“Yes.  I’m not sure if you’ll remember, but please remind me to write that note for Emeric.”

“I promise.”  He kisses her neck.  “I’ll help him.”

“Thank you.”  She nestles her face into the hand she is hugging.  Both of them drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you all tomorrow! Hopefully I'll be on time this time!
> 
> UPDATED July 20, 2018


	18. Fighter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift

She walks into the Chantry as the sun first starts to spread its light across the sky.  She left him asleep in her bed.  After she checks on her brother, she’ll wake him to say goodbye.  She slowly pushes the door to the sick room open.  Solas is hunched over Emeric, blocking her view, using some kind of magic.  Adan stands beside him with an open bottle of lyrium.  She doesn’t make a sound.  She closes the door quietly and leans against the wall.

He finishes whatever he’s doing and lets out a huff of air, grabbing the lyrium and taking it like a shot.  Adan sees her.  There are heavy bags under his eyes.  She quickly looks around, empty lyrium bottles are scattered around the room.  If Solas is still working this hard, where the hell is Vivienne?

Solas rubs his eyes and stretches.  “Let’s go again.”  Adan nods picking up another bottle. 

Shea steps forward, “Wait.”  Solas turns back to look at her.  He also has bags under his eyes and they are blood shot.  His skin clammy and paler than usual.  “Ok.  No.  That’s it for now.  Have you two been at this all night?”

They both nod.  “I refuse to let him die.  I must…”  Solas sways and she rushes to catch him.

“I’m not letting you kill yourself.  Bed now.”

Adan starts walking.  “Don’t have to tell me twice.”  He walks a few steps, stops sets the bottle down, and leaves.

Shea is still supporting Solas, almost all him weight is on her.  “I’m also benching you, ser.”

“We have to…”

“No Redcliffe for you.  No Storm Coast for you.”

“Then I have to…”

“You have done enough.”

“But there’s still…”

“Look at me.”  He slowly turns his head.  “How many eyes do I have?”

“What an odd question.  Though now that you mention it, something is quite different about you.”

“Alright.  That’s it.  Sleep.  Healer’s orders.”  She drags him to the other bed in the room and lowers him to it.

“But you’re not a healer.”

“I am today.  Now sleep.”

“You should take the Enchanter with you.  She knows… the other one.”

She pushes his head onto the pillow and puts his feet on the bed, “Oh, go explore the Fade already.”  With that he passes out.

She looks over at her brother.  He is asleep, but a little better.  His face is still bruised and swollen, not bad as it was.  His shirt has been torn open, she assumes to quicken their access to his wounds.  One side of his ribs are purple.  There several deep cuts.  One of which is still bleeding slowly.  All of them will scar.  She stops inspecting him then.  It is difficult see him like this, but at least he’s alive.  She recognizes a bottle on the table that contains concentrated elfroot.  She grabs it and pulls the cork.  Solas is right, she is not a healer, but this at least she knows will help.  She gently opens her brother’s mouth and slowly lets a few drops fall into his mouth.

“When I found your note to your brother, I figured you’d be here.”  Cullen leans against the doorway.

“I’m sorry.  Did I wake you?”

“Only because I was cold.”

“Are you upset that I left you?”

“No.  I understand.  You wanted me to rest and you wanted to see him before you left.  When it was you laying there, I was here too.”

She pauses her dripping and looks back at him.  “You were here?  I was here?”

He nods.  “After the Breach nearly killed you, I carried you here.  Stayed with you.  Watched as the mark kept you from resting.  Listened to you have nightmares.”

She smiles and turns back to drip more elfroot into her brother’s mouth.  “I don’t remember anything after I felt that rift close.  It all just went black and stayed black.  I don’t even remember the nightmares.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing.  They made you mumble things.  I never heard them, but Adan did.”

“What was I saying?”

“Something about too many eyes and ‘the gray.’  No one knows what you were talking about.”

“Wish I could help, but like I said, all I remember is blackness.”

He moves to stand behind her.  He brushes his finger on the back of her neck.  “How is he?”

“Better.  But he has a long way to go.  It’s a miracle he didn’t die.”

“I’m glad.”  She closes the bottle and sets it on the table.  She sighs. 

“You alright?”

“I don’t know.  There are some many questions.  Questions that I won’t soon have answers to.  Have you sent men out yet?”

“I stopped by on the way here.  Told them to go all the way to Ostwick to get answers if they had to.  I will not rest until this is figured out.  For you.”

She turns in the chair to look up at him.  “What did I do to deserve you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

The sun rises higher in the window.  She sighs and stands.  “A debate for another time I’m afraid.”  They embrace.  “Thank you.”

“Is there any reason in particular I’m being thanked?”

“There’s a whole list things, but mainly for being here.  For offering to care for Emeric.  For…”

“Shh.  You don’t… just… be safe.  And come back.”  She leans up and kisses his neck.  She pulls away.  He takes her hand, lacing his fingers in hers.

“Oh I plan to.  I’m not that easy to kill, Commander.  I’ve learned some things since our last bout.  I look forward to a rematch.”

“What do I get when I win again?”

“Who says you’ll win?”  She squeezes his hand and heads for the door.  “We shall see, won’t we?”  Their hands separate and she disappears into the hall.  He stares at the empty doorway for a few seconds.  Then looks over at her brother.  His signet ring and her note in his pocket.  He can see the family resemblance. Expect his hair his dark brown. From the night before, he knew they had the same eyes. He inspects his wounds.  Being in combat and living in a circle, you pick up a few things.  He grabs a large bandage and pours the elfroot extract all over it.  He applies it to the bleeding wound.  Emeric hisses.  _Sleeping potion must be wearing off.  Which means I should stay here.  Hmmm… maybe I could extend it?  No.  Better not.  It could trap him in his own mind, then where would we be?_ He examines the other big cuts.  They don’t look infected, so he leaves them be.  He grabs another bandage and pours more elfroot on it.  He presses it onto the swollen eye.

He tries to think of other things that could help.  He looks around the room.  He stands quickly.  He is surrounded by lyrium bottles, mostly empty, some not, and some open with a few drops in them.  He rushes out of the room.  He squeezes his eyes closed and focuses on his breathing.  He can still hear the song.  It’s faint, but it calls to him.  He opens his eyes and sees a servant passing.  “Excuse me?”

She dips down, “Yes, Commander?”

“Could you get someone to clean up in there?  It’s a mess.”

“Right away, ser.”  She actually goes in there herself.  He hears glass clinking against glass.  After a while she exits with a bowl full of empty or near empty bottles.  “Did you need anything else, ser?”

“No.  Thank you.”  She dips again and walks away.  He looks in the room.  There are still few bottles of lyrium and he grumbles.  _Just… ignore them._   He moves the chair further from the table and sits.  He takes her note from his pocket.  He’s been trying not to read it all morning.  She didn’t say he couldn’t, but it’s addressed to her brother.  Which implies that he shouldn’t.  So he won’t.  Yet he is very curious to know what she said about him.  Just a tiny peek.

Emeric stirs.  Cullen stands.  Emeric sits up quietly, cries out in pain, and falls back on the bed.  “Where am I?”

“Haven.”  Emeric looks up at Cullen.  He looks afraid.  Cullen finds it easy to read him, the advantage of them having the same eyes.  He moves the chair closer to the bed and sits.  “Do you remember last night?”

Emeric looks around and he’s Solas passed out on the other bed.  He jumps a little and hisses.  Cullen keeps his voice soothing and calm.  Seeing him awake and on the mend, he can see the signs more clearly.  Yes, he has been tortured.  This will be a long road, but if Solas is right, he will need to watch him until the danger can be assessed properly.  But for now, comfort.  “Emeric.  Do you remember anything from last night?”

“How do you know my name?  I don’t remember you.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t.  I was hardly in here last night.  But the elf,” he points to Solas, “he was.  Do you remember him?”

“He’s a… mage?”

“Yes.  But you don’t need to fear him.”

“I remember.  She cut her hand!  He fixed it.  Where is she?  Where is my sister?”

Cullen pulls the signet ring from his pocket.   He places it and note next to him.  “She had to leave on business.  But she left this for you.”  Emeric adjusts himself slowly so that he is in a more seated position.  He grabs both items.  He inspects the ring and puts it on his right ring finger.  Perfect fit.  He relaxes a little and picks up the note.  Cullen waits while he reads.  Emeric looks up at him then back at the note.  He reads it a few times.

“She says your name is Commander Cullen Rutherford?”

“That’s right.”

“And she knew you’d be sitting… right there.  How could she know that?”

“She asked me to.  Her instructions were very specific.  She thought if you saw that she trusted me with your ring and received a note in her handwriting that you would be more inclined to trust me the way she does.”

“She trusts you?”

“Her note should say that, but yes.  Implicitly.  I… command the Inquisition’s forces.”

“She also said you knew our uncle.”

“I did.  He helped me in Kirkwall while I was Knight-Commander there.”

“You’re a templar?”

“Former.”

“I… I trust her.  And if she trusts you, then… I suppose I can too.  What happened to me?”

“We don’t know.  I have men trying to find out, but only you can tell us the details we can’t find out from investigating.”

“I don’t remember much.  I was coming here.  To join her.  To join you, I guess.  I remember getting off the ship at Jadar.  Buying a horse.  I was… on the Imperial Highway.  I was travelling… by night to avoid the fighting.  At some point, I was attacked.  I didn’t see them.  An ambush.  I fought but there were too many.  When I woke, I was bleeding.  A lot.  I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t.  I didn’t have any supplies.  They took everything.  I made a bow and some arrows out of sticks and sharp rocks.  Then walked here.  I don’t know how long it took. I still travelled at night.  Following the highway.”

“Did you see any road markings?”

“There was a banner.  Some soldiers were carrying it.  I recognized it.  The man who brought her letters had it on his armor.  So I followed them from cover and at a distance.  They lead me here.”

“And what do you remember of last night?”

“Shea told me to trust those… mages.  Gave me a potion.  That’s it.”

“That does help.  I’ll let my men know.”  Cullen thinks for a moment.  “When did you leave Ostwick?”

“What?  Why does that matter?”

“I’m trying to set up a time table.  If I can track your progress, then maybe we can piece more of this together.”

“She said you were smart.  Let me think.  I got on a ship from the port.  A couple weeks after I got her letter.”  Cullen wonders if the scout who delivered them was back yet, or if Leliana has given him another field assignment.  “The letter said she was at Haven.  I’ve never been to Ferelden.  Sailed past it once on the way to Orlais, but never actually been here.  Haven is hard to find on a map.”

“You should rest.  I know this is a little frightening.  Foggy memory, surrounded by strangers.  But I gave your sister my word that no harm would come to you.  I have some things to take care of, but if you remember anything or need me for anything, there is a man just outside the door.  Just call for him.  I know you have trust issues with mages.”

“How do you know that?”

“The terror I saw last night and the fear I see in your eyes now.  I understand.  More than anyone could possible know, but I trust the mages here.  If you allow them to help you, you will heal faster.  In fact, that mage, Solas, saved your life last night.  Without him working on you through the night, you would be dead.  Not all mages are evil.  Try to remember that.”  Cullen stands and goes over to the table. “A few things.  The blue one don’t drink it.  Only take a few drops at of time of this dark green one.  This reddish one is safe to drink, it will help heal your bruises, but only do it once per day.  If you have trouble sleeping, regardless of the reason, this light purple one will help.  If nightmares plague you,” He pulls a bottle from his pocket.  “Drink this yellow one.  It’s from my personal stash.  It is potent stuff and you will sleep for hours, but it’ll be dreamless.  Catch all that?”

“No blue.  Drops of dark green.  Red for bruises, one a day.  Purple for sleep.  Yellow for dreamless sleep.  I think I got it.  Should I call you Commander or…?”

Cullen smirks, “In mixed company, yes.  But if it’s just us or your sister, Cullen is fine.”

“Alright, Cullen.  Well, you know my name.  And thanks.”

“Get some rest.”  Cullen starts to close the door.

“Wait.” Cullen sticks his head in.  “Could you leave it open?”

“Sure.”  He opens the door wide and goes into the hall.  He turns to the man at the door, “Lord Trevelyan would like the door to remain open.  If he needs me for anything or if his condition changes, good or ill, come get me immediately.  I want to be the first to know.”

“Yes, Commander.”  Cullen walks through the Chantry and into Leliana’s tent.  “Have you seen out new guest?”

She nods, “Emeric Trevelyan.  The Herald’s middle brother.  I hear you sent men out to follow his path?”           

“Yes.  I will need to send word to them shortly about the information I just got from him.”

“He’s awake?”

“And terrified.  We believe he may have been tortured by mages.”

She puts a hand on his shoulder.  “I remember Kinloch.  Are you ok with this?”

“I’ll have to be.  If anyone can help him, it’s me.  He doesn’t remember it.  The more I learn the more I’m convinced.  His time table is off.  He’s missing a lot of time.  Do you know when The Herald’s letters to her family and the ashes were delivered?”

“Yes.  Let me check the reports.”  She flips through some papers.  “Here we are.  Longbow left Haven.  Got to Amaranthine in 6 days.  Ostwick in 1.  He notes that it was a record and he should win something.  It took a full day to be granted an audience with Bann Trevelyan.  The welcome was not warm.  He said the Bann kept saying his daughter was dead and that there was no way this letter or the ashes could be from her.  He was turned away.  Met an elf named Moira.  She went and got the oldest son, Brandon.  Who accepted the ashes and the letters.  He was asked to stay until they could be verified.  Moira gave him a nice lunch.  He was invited back in.  Bann accepted the ashes with his thanks, but said he did not recognize anyone claiming to be the Herald of Andraste.  Asked him to leave.  The middle sibling, Emeric, asked what was the easiest way to Haven.  He told him to take a ship from the port in Ostwick to the Jadar port.  From there, buy a strong and fast horse, travel at night to avoid the fighting.  Camp high to avoid ambush.  Avoid Lake Calenhad and the Imperial Highway.  Keep the base of the Frostback to the west.  If the weather was clear and he didn’t run into trouble, it would take him about 2 weeks to get to Haven.  Received orders to go to Denerim.”        

“Emeric claims to have left Ostwick by ship two weeks after Longbow left.  He should have reached us 3 weeks ago, if that’s the case.”

“I will look into how travel was on the Waking Sea.  We also need to find out the type of ship he boarded.  If he was on a merchant vessel, it may have stopped along the way.  I don’t like having all these unanswered questions.”

“Then Solas’ theory about why he has fear but no memory won’t comfort you.  He thinks Emeric was brainwashed into fearing all types of magic.  Manipulated into lashing out at any one who uses it.  Solas has said her mark is an unknown type of magic, but magic nonetheless.”

“You think he was sent to kill her?  If this is true, we might have too…”

“I will not kill her brother.  Nor will I let anyone hurt her brother.  And because of that, I think you should run the investigation.  I’m too close to this.  I have built a rapport with him, so any questions you would like me to ask him, I will.  When we find out the truth, I will be the one to inform the Herald.”         

“I agree.  I’ll keep you informed.”

Cullen scratches his stubble.  “You know.  We might have an inside person at their home in Ostwick.  But I’ll need a scout who isn’t against breaking and entering.  Who can also keep up with a raven.”

“Let me know when you are ready.  I have just the scout in mind.”  He nods and turns his back on her, “Commander.  I really am sorry for having to interrupt last night.  It really did look like a very nice romantic evening.”

“How do you know what it looked like?”

“You left the door open to the cabin when you left.  I closed it.”

“Thank you.” He walks back to the cabin and sits at the desk.  He pulls out some paper and writes:

 

_Moira,_

_I’m not sure if you received the Herald…. Shea’s letter some months ago.  She was telling me about you last night.  She misses you dearly._

_I suppose I should prove that I am who I say that I am.  One can never been too sure at times like these.  Shea has a silver painted halla necklace that used to belong to you.  It was made for you by your Keeper.  The silver is the color of the vallaslin you were supposed to get.  I apologize if I spelled that incorrectly._

_What I am about to say and ask, you must keep to yourself.  I’m afraid that Shea has few friends in her former home._

_I have an issue I hope you can help me resolve regarding her brother, Emeric.  Is he missing?  If so, for how long?  If the answer is 3 to 5 weeks, then we have a problem.  He arrived at Haven last night.  His injuries were severe.  He is resting and healing now.  But some of his time is unaccounted for. Any information you can provide would be greatly appreciated._

_The Inquisition is providing you with access to a scout.  The one who delivered this letter.  Any letters you need to send can be given to this scout.  They will come directly to us.  This includes any personal letters you’d like to send to Shea._

_If you need assistance, of any kind, let us know.  Any friend of Shea’s is a friend of mine._

_Sincerely,_

_Commander Cullen Rutherford_

He puts the letter into an envelope.  He takes it to Leliana.  “I’m horrible at letters.  I think maybe you should read it first.  The private stuff obviously stays… private.” 

She removes the letter from the envelope and reads it.  “I think that’s perfect.  You give yourself too little credit.”  She motions to a scout.  “Commander, this is Shadow.  She has been assigned to Moira.”  The scout is an elven woman and is dressed like a servant.  “The plan is for her to actually infiltrate the Trevelyan household as a servant.  She will have direct access Moira and can watch the rest of the household unnoticed.  She is very good at her job.”

“Thank you, Shadow.”  She bows her head to him.  Leliana hands her the letter.  Shadow picks up the cage next to her.  It is empty so he assumes the raven is flying around somewhere.  She bows her head again and leaves.

“I think Shadow might break Longbow’s record.  She knows the forests and mountains better than he does.  We should hear back from her once she arrives.  She won’t send word again until after making contact.”

“Excellent.  I should get back to work.”  They nod to get other and he goes to train his men.

***

Shea has never hated someone so much in her entire life.  If she didn’t need a mage with her on the road, she would have left Vivienne behind.  She knows she had value, both as a mage and because of her connection to the Imperial Court, but all in all she is a self-centered bitch.  A common circle mage who snaked, schemed, and slept her way to power.  But it is mainly the self-centered bitch part that Shea hates.  She is familiar with the Game, sleeping, snaking, and scheming are all a part of it.  It is her attitude, her carelessness for others, and that she thinks she is better than everyone.

It is a fight to keep from blowing up at the mage.  Especially after a particular conversation regarding her brother.  Turns out, after Shea and Cullen had left the Chantry, Vivienne took it upon herself to let Solas do all the work.  She did two rounds of healing, said she was tired, and left.  Leaving Solas to chug bottle upon bottle of lyrium just to keep up with the amount of magic he was using.  Which, according to Cassandra, could have killed him.  So not only, did Madame de Fer leave her brother to die, she left Solas to die too.

Shea wants to tell her off so bad.  Every time some condescending remark flows unchecked from her mouth, Shea has to bite down on the inside of her mouth.  This is the last time Vivienne is coming into the field.  If she needs a power hungry ankle biter, then she might consider it.  She knows very well that her hatred might have a little to do with being an actual noble.  And she is a little ashamed of that, but then Vivienne opens her mouth and she’s reminded that she is a cold-hearted snake.

The plus side is that this seething hatred distracts her from worrying about Cullen and Emeric.  They make horrible time.  Shea, Cassandra, and even Varric are used to riding by now.  It is a small pleasure to see Vivienne struggling at first, not used to riding on but behind a horse.  Shea’s horse hasn’t even stopped completely as she jump off to meet Scout Harding.

“You sure do get around a lot.”

“That’s my job.”  She smiles.  “The stack’s over there.”  Shea claps her on the back and runs to the pile.  _Cassandra, Cassandra, Cassandra, Me but read later, also me.  Ah ha!_   She quickly unrolls the report.

_Shea,_

_Just to let you know.  I’m putting all this on one report until I have to send it at the last possible second.  That way you only have to read one report._

_Day 1_

_He woke up.  The ring and letter worked.  Wounds are healing well, though he will have scars.  By the end of the day he could open both eyes, and the big cut stopped bleeding.  He won’t talk to anyone but me, because he doesn’t trust anyone else.  He will only let Solas work on him if I am present.  We’re trying to piece together what really happened and it doesn’t look good._

_I sent a letter to Moira.  Along with a scout and raven.  The scout will be infiltrating your old home to protect and observe.  We’ll see how that goes.  We’ll know more in about a week._

_Day 2_

_I miss you, by the way.  Most of his bruises have healed.  The cuts and internal damage need time.  We’re waiting for his body to be completely healed before trying to help his mind.  I will warn you that his healing will take time.  Mental scars don’t easily fade.  But I will do what I can._

_Day 3_

_Emeric and I walked through Haven today.  He was getting restless so I gave him a tour.  We couldn’t stay out long.  He still has a lot of pain.  He is starting to trust Solas.  Which to me seems like a good sign.  Some of Leliana’s men found a blood trail matching what he told us.  But there were no signs of a struggle._

_Day 4_

_He stopped taking the bruise potion because it up set his stomach.  So the deeper bruises will take longer to heal.  Cuts are looking good.  He and Solas were discussing the Fade when I walked in earlier.  I caught the tail end of it.  They were discussing what caused nightmares._

_You should be almost to Redcliffe.  So I’m sending this now.  I think about you every day.  I miss you.  Emeric should be almost fully healed by the time you return._

_-Cullen_

Well, that is a relief.  She can focus on this mage business now without having to worry that her brother is dying.  She wonders what Moira would say to getting a letter from him.  She tells everyone that is he doing well and when Vivienne starts to take credit for it, she snaps.

“You?  You saved him?  Little miss pampered needed her beauty sleep while a life hung in the balance.  Solas nearly killed himself trying to a job that was meant for two mages.  You should be ashamed of yourself.  I’ll tell you one thing, Madame de Fer.  If either one of them had died, you would have regretted abandoning them.”  They all just stare at her.  She has never lost control of her emotions like that.  She takes a deep breath.  “I… should not have said that.  I apologize.”

Vivienne laughs, “My dear, I am not offended in the slightest.  You’ve been holding that in for _days_.  In fact, that might be the best worded threat I’ve ever heard.  Well done.”  Shea’s eye twitches.  “Trading insults is one of my favorite parts of the Game.  Feel free to throw any back my way should the mood strike, my dear.”  She starts swaying in the direction of Redcliffe Village. 

Shea looks over at Cassandra, “When can I kill her?” 

Cassandra laughs.  “You can’t.  But if it ever becomes necessary, I’ll be right there with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I posted early to make up for the days I was late lol
> 
> UPDATE July 20, 2018


	19. Two Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** pov/time shift

_Cullen,_

_All I have to say is, as Varric would put it, “Well, shit.”  Redcliff was a fucking nightmare.  There is a single solitary phrase I thought would never, ever hear.  Ready for this?  Are you sitting down?  The Tevinter Imperium, yes that one, now owns the Rebel Mages.  Are you fucking kidding me?_

_Side note:  Have mentioned that I hate Vivienne?  Is it too late to send her ass back to Orlais?_

_All hope is not lost for the mages however.  It seems they were conned.  Lord Dorian, Scion of House Pavus of Qarinus, has offered his help.  Ok that really makes him sound super pompous, and he is, but not in a bad way.  He is from Tevinter but he is not like others.  Also, he’s not a magister.  He will being meet us in Haven._

_Headed to the Storm Coast and then back.  We were planning to help clear up some problems but after learning about THE TEVINTER FUCKING IMPERIUM being in Ferelden, we have to… I have to… someone has to decide what the hell we’re doing with the mages and templars.  Can’t shit just be easy for once?_

_Another side note:  I apologize for my language.  I’ve been angry for days and have had to keep it all caged up.  So here’s me… venting…_

_Also, I’m sure Cassandra has already done this, but could you let Leliana know that we followed up on that Grey Warden sighting.  Blackwall has joined the Inquisition.  He’s coming with us to the Storm Coast._

_Thank you for looking after Emeric.  He has a kind heart, though it might have been... never mind.  I have been curious as to what Moira will say to you.  I should warn you, I did write about you in the letter I sent._

_I miss you.  See you soon…ish._

_~Shea_

_***_

_Commander Cullen,_

_This scout of yours is good.  I’m not sure how she found me.  Brandon asked me to go look for Emeric when he didn’t send word that he arrived at Haven.  He will be pleased to hear he finally made it.  All the information I could gather was that he boarded a ship bound for Jadar.  Whatever happened to him happened in Ferelden._

_If you see Shea before I do, please tell her I tried to write, but couldn’t get anyone to send it.  I’m glad she found the halla.  I wasn’t sure she had when she wrote._

_She is my people.  And I will do anything to help my people.  That said, if you break her heart or hurt her in any way, you will have to answer to me.  I’m an excellent shot and I am quick with a blade.  You’ve been warned._

_Shadow and I will search for signs of Emeric as we head south._

_-Moira_

_***_

_Cullen,_

_I really like The Iron Bull.  He’s a qunari.  His company is excellent.  So, I’m bringing more friends to Haven.  I told him about your theory on Emeric’s mind.  He thinks he can help.  Though it sounds scary._

_We’re headed back now.  I hope you and Emeric are getting along.  You both mean a lot to me and I don’t know what I’d do if… but I’m sure it’s fine.  You two do have a common interest after all.  To clarify, I mean me._

_Miss you._

_Shea_

_***_

Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine are waiting in the war room for Shea and Cassandra.  There is no time to waste.  Once they come to a decision, they will leave the next morning.  Emeric, feeling almost totally healed, is out training with the soldiers.  He can’t fully hit someone, but it’s feels good to get the motions going again.  Everyone stops to watch as the Herald of Andraste leads in a hoard of mercenaries.  At head of this hoard is gigantic horned man.

Shea points them to an area where they can set up camp and stables her horse.  “You’ve changed.”  She looks over and Emeric is leaning against the sable fence.  He still has bits of discoloration on his face, but he looks good.  She hugs him.  “Ow.  Ribs are still broken.”

She pulls back, “Maker, I’m sorry.”  He smiles.

“It’s so good to see you.  I wanted to join as soon as I got your letter.  My sister, the Herald of Andraste.”

“Yep.  That’s what they say.”

“You should hear people talk about you.  The stories grow bigger every time I hear them.  I’ve joined up.  Officially.  Pretty sure Father has disowned me for it.  He’s siding with the Chantry on this.”

“Is he open about that?”

“Yep.  Publicly renounced his own daughter.  Claims you must be possessed or being used somehow.”

She sighs.  “Nothing I’m not used to I’m afraid.”  Cassandra clears her throat.  “I would love to stay and catch up, but duty calls.”  She hugs him again and runs off after Cassandra.  He goes back to hitting a training dummy.

The meeting starts as soon as she enters.  “Alright people.  Time to weigh our options.  Mages or Templars?”  She listens to them debate for a good long time.  The conversation goes in circles.  They can’t come to an agreement, so they look to her.  “Well, when all this started I was leaning toward the templars, family bias and all, but they chose to go against the Chantry.  To turn their backs on their vows and walk away.  The mages, while yes they _technically_ started it, are now enslaved to a hostile foreign power.  Almost every mage I talked to hated it and begged for our help.  Not to mention Alexius, the head Tevinter, is using time magic, which can punch a hole in the world.  This can’t happen, obviously.”

Dorian bursts in the doors with a flourish.  “Which is why I’m here.  I’m not just pretty to look at, I know Alexius, and I want to help.  I can get past the magic he is using to prevent intruders.”

Leliana chimes in, “I know a back way into the castle and with his help we can get a sizable number without them noticing.  But we need a distraction.”

“And that’s my job.  He wants to have a meeting with me, so we give it to him.  While he’s talking, Dorian and Leliana’s people swoop in and take out his guards.”

Cullen sighs, “I don’t like the idea of using you a bait, but it’s the most logical plan.”

“Great.  It’s decided.  Let’s go get us some mages.  We leave at dawn.”  The meeting ends.  Dorian winks at her and walks out with Josephine as they set up where he can stay.  Cullen’s eyes narrow as he watches the exchange.   They are alone in the war room.  “What’s that look for?”

“What look?”

“The squinty eyed thing you did at Dorian just now.”

“I… did no such thing.”

She walks over to him and dramatically gasps, “Are you jealous of the charming mage?”

“No.  And he’s not that charming.”

She takes his hands.  “You have nothing to worry about.  If anything, I might have to worry.  He might find you attractive.”

“Why would he… ooooh.  Ok.  Officially not jealous anymore.”    

“I knew you were jealous.”

He smiles at her, “You are in a fantastic mood.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?  My brother is a live and here.  And you are here.  We have a plan.  We’ll close the Breach soon.  Everything is falling into place.”

“I like your confidence.  There are still a lot of rifts and problems all over Thedas.”

“Yes, but we’ll deal with all that after the Breach.”  She pauses, “How upset would you be if I spent some time with Emeric?”

“As long as I can have some of your time, then not at all.  I will admit to being a little selfish in that regard.”

She smiles, “Then I will see you tonight.”  She kisses him on the cheek and leaves the war room.  He sighs.  He really doesn’t want to share her time.  He already has to share her with the Inquisition.  Now, he has to give her time to see her brother.  A brother that could be secretly trying to kill her.  Though it is her time.   If she doesn’t want to spend it with him, that is her choice, as much as that pains him.  He sighs.  He rubs his neck trying to think of what he can do to insure her safety.  If she’s going to be with her potentially brainwashed brother, then he needs to make absolutely sure that he isn’t.

 _She said Iron Bull might be able to help.  And I really should see him, he’s brought in a lot of people._ Cullen resolves himself to having a potentially painful conversation with the qunari.  Talking about anything even remotely linked to his tortured past, always makes the nightmares stronger.

He finds Iron Bull and his men have been stationed just outside the walls right next door to his own camp.  His men are sparring, except for one older looking elf who is leaning on a staff.  A mage.  Bull is saying something to her and she loudly protests, “I’m not a mage!” 

Cullen chuckles to himself, “And I’m a Tevinter Magister.”  Bull sees Cullen approaching and waves the elf off.  “You’re men have good form.”

“Thanks.  Trained some of them myself.  I see you’ve put your templar training to good use.”

“I’m not a templar.  At least not anymore.  How did you know that?”

“It’s in their shield work.  Angled down so acid or fire does blow back into their faces.  Also I’m Ben-Hassrath, a qunari spy, finding information is what I do.”

“Why would you admit that?”

“Red would find out eventually and I’m sharing the reports I get with her.  No reason to hide it.  They aren’t too happy about it, but they aren’t here.”      

Cullen holds out his hand, “Commander Cullen.”

“The Iron Bull.”  He takes his hand and firmly shakes it.

“I didn’t think you had names under The Qun.”

“We don’t.  But since I’ve been working in Orlais, I figured I needed one.  Plus, I like it.  Makes me less of a person and more like an animal.  It’s gotten us a lot of jobs.  So, what brings over here?”

“Sh… The Herald told you about her brother?”

“She said you and Solas think he was tortured by mages, then forced to forget.  A mind is more fragile than people like to believe.  But I think you know that.”

Cullen nods, “Is it that obvious?”

“No, you mask it well, but I have training.  You made this slight change in your face at the word ‘tortured’.  In the Ben-Hassrath, we have what’s called a Re-Educator.  They can mold a mind.  Break it and put it back together.  At her request, I’ve been looking into… work arounds.  His mind is already broken, he just doesn’t know it.  With the right potions, the right words, we could get the truth from him without breaking it further.”

“Is there a way to make that a guarantee?”

Bull shakes his head, “Not when there’s magic involved.  If they had tortured him and not altered his mind, then maybe.  But then all this wouldn’t be necessary.  I watched him with her earlier.  He cares a great deal for her, like only family can.  I told her to talk about some horrible shit she’s seen regarding magic so I could watch his reaction.  Whatever she told him made him greatly concerned for her but also picked at something in his mind.”

“How much do you know about templar abilities?”

“Not much.  Why?  Got something in mind?”          

Cullen rubs his neck.  “Well, my own abilities are weaker now, but I… Maker’s breath this is hard.”

“Don’t talk about it much?”

“Ever.”  He squeezes the bridge of his nose, “I get headaches.  Not just from remembering my past.”

“You stopped?”

“How… yes.  Only Cassandra knows.  I know taking it would make my suffering a lot easier…”

“Let’s not talk about you then.  That kid has never had a drop of the stuff.  That we know of.  His mind should snap back once whatever spell he’s under breaks.  He should be kept from any secrets your Inquisition may have.  Who knows what that spell can do?  I gave her the same warning.  I also told her to keep a dagger on hand, just in case.”

Cullen chuckles, “I bet she had a lot to say about that.”

“She did.  But she understood.  She said if anyone was going to do it, it would be her. I think Varric needs a new nickname for her.”

“Why is that?”

“She’s not a cub.  Have you seen her in a fight?  I can tell she’s had some shield training, but she doesn’t use one.  She is the shield.  I watched her use her own body to block Vivienne when an energy burst was aimed at her back.  And she hates Vivienne.  The look on that Vints face when she didn’t go down was hilarious!”  Bull roars with laughter.  Cullen thinks back to their first meeting on the battlefield.  He smirks.  “Oh I saw that.  You have a thing for her?”

Cullen blushes and rubs his neck, “You’re worse than Leliana.”

“I will take that as a compliment.”

“Are we done here?”

“Hey.  You came to me.  Remember?”

“Right.  About her _brother_.”

“Well, I have more observations to make.  It would also help if I had a clearer picture of what happened before I start poking his brain.”

“We have people on it.  I’ll loop you in.”

“Great!”  Bull steps forward, yelling at his men, “Hey!  If you’re not going to use the shield, grab another sword!”  Cullen smiles.  He can see why she likes Bull.  “I should probably get in there.  Show them how it’s done.”

“I will leave you to it then.”  Bull charges forward and rips a shield from someone’s hand.  Cullen smirks and goes back to his own men.  They are turning into quite the force.  Constantly growing in number.  He’s worried he might have to find another place for them as they might soon outgrow this area.  He watches them spar, trying to clear his head.  It doesn’t take long for work to consume him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts on Emeric?
> 
> UPDATE July 20, 2018


	20. Rapid Eye Movement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 19 was kinda short... So here's 20!
> 
> *** pov/time shift

Shea sits with her brother at the end of a deck on the frozen river outside Haven.  She can feel the hilt of her new dagger pressing into her side as she leans forward staring at the slick surface of the water.  Emeric tosses a rock at it, making it skip and sing as it bounces.  She smiles.  “You were always really good at that.”

“Skipping rocks is easy.”  He sighs, “Something is nagged at me.  I just don’t know what it is.”

She sits up and looks over at him.  “What’s that?”

“Why do you… How can you trust someone who cast of their vows?  Doesn’t that mean that every promise they make is worthless?”

Her eyes narrow, “What is this really about?  Because I know you aren’t about to lecture me about family duty when _you_ left home on your own.”

“I’m not talking about you or me.  I’m talking about…”

“I know who you are talking about.  I’m wondering what brought it on?  He’s been nothing but kind to you.  He’s trying everything he can to help you even though the memories that surface by doing so cause him a great deal of pain.”

“His memories cause him pain?”

Shea looks back down at the icy water.  “He doesn’t think I see it, but I do.  He won’t talk about it, because _of course_ he won’t.  Then here you are, questioning how much we can actually trust him.”

“I was just saving that neither of us really know him.  Like you said, he won’t talk about it.  Who knows what deep dark secret he’s hiding that could come back and bite us all in the ass?”

“Where did all this negativity come from?  This doesn’t sound like you.”

He sighs, “When you left for the Conclave, I was sad, but I knew that someday I would see you again.  You’d be a templar.  Life went on.  It was weird how normal it all felt.  You were gone, but it was like nothing had changed.  Brandon and I were sparring when that giant hole appeared in the sky.  We didn’t know what it was.  We watched it grow and split the sky.  Things were flying around it, but it was too far off to see.  Then came the reports.  Trickling in more and more each day.  The Divine was dead.  The Temple of Sacred Ashes was gone.  They started calling it the Breach.  No survivors.  Everyone dead.  Bodies vaporized or turned to charred husks of red lyrium.  Like they said that Knight-Commander in Kirkwall turned into.  You were dead, Shea.  All reports said that you were dead.  Your ashes laying in the rubble.  We had a funeral.  More of memorial.  We couldn’t give you proper rites.  It broke us.  All of us.  We grieved you.  I grieved you.  It changed me.  I saw how truly cruel this world this.”

“But I didn’t die.”     

“No.  You didn’t.  When that soldier arrived, carrying our uncle’s remains and your letters, we thought he just trying to exploit our family and our many losses.  Nine Trevelyans, Shea.  Nine.  That’s how many of us were at the Conclave.  I can name every single one.  Not that I knew them all, but I recognized the names.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to hold in the emotions for that many deaths?  But that’s out duty right?  ‘Modest in temper, bold in deed.’  Most people hear that motto and don’t think that temper isn’t just anger, but more like that of a sword.  Tempered.  Strong.  That soldier never said your name, just The Herald of Andraste.  It was the first time we had heard it.  Until Moira convinced Brandon to actually read your letter to Father, we had no idea who this Herald was.  This savor delivered from the Fade.  Father is convinced the Herald is just some demon wearing your skin.  But when I read your letter, I knew.  It was you.  You were alive.  You were alive and alone.  I couldn’t just sit around.  So, I came to find you.  Father wouldn’t let me go.  Brandon wouldn’t let me go.  They said it couldn’t really be you.  But I had to know.  To see for myself.  So Moira helped me sneak out.  I left them a note, saying that’d I’d write when I got to Haven.”  He presses his hands into his temples, “I… I know something happened.  Something more than I can remember.”

“Emeric.  Let us help you.  We want to figure this out as much as you do.”

“That’s just it though.  I don’t want to know.  I can hear the whispers around me.  People think I’ve been… altered.  That I’m a danger.  And maybe I am.  But what if digging around in my head sets whatever monster I’ve become loose?”

She hears something strange in his voice.  The words don’t feel like his.  She hopes the fear that stirs doesn’t show on her face.  She doesn’t want to believe that he would hurt her.  It occurs to her that maybe love is blinding her.  Not just the love she feels for her brother, but for Cullen too.  _Wait.  Did I just…_ _Blessed Andraste!  I…_   She is never able to name the things she feels when she looks at him.  His smirk.  His eyes.  His scars.  She just thought it was physical.  Her untapped desire, but now she knows.  She loves him.

Emeric is watching her emotions change rapidly.  “What?  Is something wrong?”

She shakes her head, “No, not wrong.  I just had a very big realization.”

“About?”

“Nothing.  It’s not important right now.  I…”

He smiles at her, “Shea.  I’ve known you your whole life.  And I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you need me.”

“Yes.  I do.”  He sighs, “Ok.  Just sit with me a little longer, then you can go do whatever it is that popped into your head.”

“Have you told our family you made it yet?”  He nods. “Any response?”

“Not yet.  I’m sure they are pissed.  I just hope Moira doesn’t get in trouble for helping me.”

“Did she hit you yet?”

“Why did you ask that?”

“Because I know her.  Better than anyone.  The harder it is the more she likes you.”

He blushes and rubs his arm.  “She bruised me.  I don’t even remember what I said, but she reared back, punched me in the arm, and stormed off.  I thought I pissed her off.  But she likes me?”

“She told me once that when she was younger, a few years before I met her, that she was interested in this boy in her clan.  One day, she tried to talk to him.  He said something to make her blush and before she knew what was happening, she punch him in the face.  He was stunned and she was embarrassed.  She never spoke to him again.  She said she was always worried that whenever she met someone she liked, that she’d punch them.”

“Well.  I thought she was mad at me.  I don’t even know what I said.”

“You might not have said anything.  You could have just looked at her in just the right way.  Then bam!  She is a teenager after all.”

“She’s not that much younger than me is she?”

“Why are people so obsessed with age?  And no, she’s only like six years younger than me so…”

“Oh.  Well that’s not so bad.  Father has eight years on Mother.”

“Why _are_ people so obsessed with age?”

“I wasn’t aware they were.”

Shea sighs, “People keep asking me how old I am.  I don’t think I’ve actually answered the question more than once.  I think putting a number to it might make people respect me less.”

“And by ‘people’, do you mean the Commander?”

She shrugs, “Yes and no.  I think he knows me well enough by now not to care about a stupid number.  But the people who follow my orders?  That’s a different story.”

He looks up at the setting sun.  “Wow.  Time flies here.   And… the Breach looks so much bigger from here.”

“You should have seen it before I fixed it.  Hopefully, when I get back, I’ll be able to get rid of it completely.”

“We should probably head back.  Solas said he wanted to check me over before we all turned in for the night.”

She looks into his eyes, “How do you feel about Solas?”

“Well… he’s a mage, which I’m not really cool with.  But he’s got some pretty cool stories.  He said he was going to look around in the Fade for answers for me once the Breach was closed.”

“Answers?”

“To what happened.  He said that memories echo in the Fade even if the people they belong to don’t remember or are dead.  He said the Breach has driven the spirits away for now, but once it’s closed he should have better luck.”

“It seems like you are starting to trust him.”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure I’ll ever fully be able to.  We’ll see I guess.”  He stands and helps her up.  They walk back to Haven together.  “You never answer my original question.”

“Which one?”

“About how you could trust…”

“Oh.  I didn’t answer because I refuse to justify my actions.  Who I trust and why doesn’t matter.  ‘Bold in deed,’ remember?”

“Letting your actions speak for themselves.  Got it.  But I expect answers someday.”  He splits off heading for the Chantry.  She watches him walk.  She can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right with him.  They talked about memories they shared and other topics they used to talk about, but they seemed distant to him.  Like he had to dig them out of a long forgotten chest.  There was something she couldn’t name in his voice when he told her he didn’t want to know what happened.  Almost like the voice wasn’t his.  She’d have to tell Leliana and Bull about that.  They might know more. 

She turns to walk to her cabin, a different set of thoughts replace her concerns.  She loves him.  She loves everything about him.  His soft, curly blonde hair.  The way he always listens to her talk.  Always knows the right thing to say.  The ache in her heart that she feels when she has to leave him, even for a few minutes.  She’s never felt this kind of love before.  She loves her family and Moira.  But this love is different.  It is like he was made for her.  The fit together, flaws and all.  She didn’t know she wasn’t whole before meeting him, but there was a spark when their eyes met that very first day.  Was that when it happened?  Was that really love?  Or young girl’s misconception of it?

She expected him to be there when she opened her door, but he isn’t.  She tries not feel disappointed by that.  He is probably planning troop movements or other troop related things.  She closes the door but doesn’t lock it.  There is a new addition to her cabin.  In a little alcove by the door stands two armor racks.  On either side of the stands are hooks.  She pulls the sword from her back and hangs it up.

A gentle knock on the door hit her ears.  She opens the door to see Harritt. “Herald?  Am I disturbing you?”

She smiles, “Not at all.  To what do I owe the pleasure?”  He holds out a large object wrapped in cloth.  She pulls back the cloth and gasps.  “Oh Maker.  It’s beautiful.”

“I think it’s my greatest work.  Apologies for taking so long to make it.  I wanted it to be perfect.”  She lifts the great axe from his hands and grips it.  It’s heavier than her sword, much heavier.  She thinks about how charging someone is going to feel with this in her hands.  “How’s weight?”

“It’s good.  It’s bigger than I imagined.  But I like it.  A lot.” 

He smiles.  “If after trying it out, it’s not for you…”

She shakes her head staring up at double headed axe at the end.  “No, I’m definitely going to like this.”

“Good.  I made it so it fits on the back of your armor as it is.  No need to adjust anything.”

“This is fantastic work, Harritt.  I love it.  Thank you.”  She removes her sword from the wall hangers and puts her new axe in its place.  She hands the sword to him.  “I supposed I won’t be needing this old thing anymore.”

He takes it from her.  “I’m sure we can find some use for it.”  He bows his head to her.  “Good night, Herald.”

“Good night.  And thank you, again.”  She closes the door as he leaves.  She manages to stop staring at the axe after a few minutes.  She removes her armor and places on the stand next to her axe.  She notices that the axe and armor match.  She smiles again.  She yawns.  She picks up Cullen’s gift shirt from its folded spot on her bed.  She presses it to her face.  His scent is still strong on it even after being away for so long.  She removes her breast band and slips the shirt over her head.  She pulls back the covers and crawls into bed.  She snuggles beneath them hugging the sleeves of the oversized shirt to her face.

***

Cullen laughs loudly at something Bull has said.  The tavern is bustling.  He has made a fast friend in Bull and Blackwall.  They trade war stories and drinks.  Sera and Varric are there too, but they are way more interested in drinking than war stories.  After a lot of laughs and a few ales, Cullen sees that it is dark.  He downs the rest of his ale and stands.

“Aw!  Come on!  You can’t leave now!”  Bull roars.  “You’re not even drunk yet!”

“Yeah, Commander, you need to relax more!”  Blackwall pushes a full pint in his direction.

Cullen smirks his famous half smile to them, “I would love to stay, gentlemen.  But I have a lady waiting.”

Sera jumps up on the table and makes kissy noise in his direction, “Cully Wully’s off ta’git in it!”  She giggles and falls off the table.  Cullen rubs his neck and starts turning red.

Bull yells, “Sit!  Now I have to know!”

Cullen waves his hand, “I… I mean… I really shouldn’t… ok one more drink.”  Everyone cheers.  He sits back down.  How does he talk about this without giving it away?  They are still keeping it secret, but talking to men about all this might, help him.

Blackwall takes a drink then smiles, “What’s ‘er name?”

“I… can’t say.”

Varric comes over, “Oh come on, Curly at least make something up.  Every character has to have a name.”

He thinks for minute.  “Her name… is… Andrea.”  They urge him to keep going.  “She’s… the most amazing woman.  Words don’t do her justice.  She’s smart, cunning, strong.  Gorgeous.”

“Is she a redhead?  I love redheads!”  Bull takes a huge gulp of ale.

Varric nudges Cullen, “Just make something up.”

“She’s… blonde.  It’s really long and soft.  The smell… ugh…”

Sera peeks out from between Bull’s horns, “Give it to her yet?”

“Not exactly.  I’ve made her… happy… a few times now.”  His stares into his cup as he drinks it.  _Why did I just say that?  Maybe I’ve had more than I thought?  I should stop before this gets too out of hand._   He quickly finishes his drinks.  “And, since my one more drink is finished, I must go.”

They all groan.  Sera stands up next to Bull, holding onto one of his horns to keep herself from falling, “Come on!  We were just getting to the good stuff.”  He smirks, then turns and walks away.  The sound of booing echoes into the street behind him.

He shuffles to her cabin door and looks around to see if anyone is watching.  Not seeing anyone, he enters quickly and shuts the door.  He locks it.  He looks over at her, sound asleep on the bed.  As quietly as he can, he hangs his sword and armor, stripping to his smallclothes.  He sits next to her on the bed and watches her sleep.  Her hair is still in its usual style, which tells him she was exhausted.  He brushes his fingers along her cheek.  She shifts and rolls onto her back.  He freezes.  She turns her head away from him.  She is still asleep.  He smiles. _Can’t sleep on your back, huh?_   He traces her face with his finger.  She swats it away as if it were a bug.  His smile widens.  He runs his finger up her neck.  She grumbles.  He leans forward and whisper her name against her neck.  She groans.  He does it again, but a little louder.  She turns her head.  “What?”

“Hi.”

She opens one eye, “Hi.”

“You were sleeping.”

She chuckles, “Yes.  I was.”

“You’re pretty.”

She opens her other eye and props herself up on her elbows.  “Thank you.”  He leans in and kisses her neck.  The smell of ale hits her nose as he exhales.  She smiles.  “Has someone been drinking?”

He sits up, “Maybe.”

She sits up fully.  “Did you have fun?”  He nods. “Are you drunk?”  He smirks and nods.

“I told people.  They wanted to know.”

“Told people?”

“About us.  Well… sort of.  Varric helped.”

“What are you talking about?”

He leans his forehead against hers.  “I told them how I felt about you.  But I said you were blonde and your name was Andrea.”

She laughs.  “Is that what Varric helped with?”

He nods.  “We are a secret.  So, he said make something up.  I said Andrea because it’s close to Andraste and you’re the Herald.”

“Ok.  Why don’t we go to sleep?”  He pulls her tight against him.

“I don’t want to _sleep._ ”

“Cullen, I’m not doing this while you’re drunk.  Don’t you want to remember…?”  He bites her neck.  She gasps.  He sucks hard on as he continues to bite her.  “Cullen.  Cullen… you’re going to leave a mark.  Cullen.”  She tries to push his head off her.  He finally detaches.  His lips are red from the effort and the spot on her neck throbs.  She puts her hand on it.  “That hurt.  Just so you know.”

He looks instantly sad.  “I’m… sorry.  I thought you would like it.”

She sighs, “Let’s just get some sleep.  Ok?”  She pulls him down onto the bed and turns onto her side.  He lays on his back staring at the ceiling.  “Cullen?”

He turns his head to face her.  “I really am sorry.  I don’t know where that came from.”  He runs his finger across her bruising neck.  “I’ve never done that before, actually.”

“Alcohol will do that to you.  How bad does it look?”

“Kind of hot, because a made it.  It’ll probably be bruised tomorrow.  I think your armor should cover it.”  She groans and falls onto her back.  He rubs his face.  “It was not my intention to get this drunk.”

“Who was giving you drinks?”

“Uh… Blackwall.  No.  Iron Bull.  He got drinks for everyone.”

“Well, that’s your problem.  Especially if you tried to keep up with him.  I made that mistake after our battle on the Storm Coast.  The hangover was not worth it.”

“Then you had to ride a horse after.”

“Ugh.  Don’t remind me.”  She rolls back onto her side and scratches his stubble.  “You growing it out?”

“I’ve always had stubble.  How are you just noticed this?”

“It’s longer.  That’s all I’m saying.”

“Want me to shave it?  Because I will if you want me to.”

“I’m not going to tell you how to keep your facial hair.  It’s your face.”

He grabs her hand and kisses her palm.  Then he looks at her.  “You could though.  If you wanted.  I would do anything you asked me to.”

“Even if you really didn’t want to?”

“Yep.”

“I think you’re going to regret saying that.”

He kisses her hand again.  “Probably.  Alcohol makes you say all kinds of things.  Like I…”  She covers his mouth.  He licks her palm.

“How about we stop talking for now?”

He rolls onto his side, “I don’t want to sleep.”

“Then you can watch me.”  She pulls the blankets higher and closes her eyes.  He scoots in closer to her.  He takes her hands and puts them in his hair.  “What are you doing?”

He rests his head on her chest.  “Sleeping.”  He moves down the bed and buries his face.  He wraps arms around her waist and weaves their legs together.  She smiles and hugs his head.  She buries her face in his hair.  She falls asleep before he does. 

He hates this shirt.  It doesn’t smell like her.  He feels her grip loosen as she falls deeper into sleep.  He removes her arms from him.  Slowly and gently he removes the shirt, sliding it off while trying not to move her.  Once it’s free and returns to his original position.  Much better.  He place her hands back in his hair and soon he is asleep.

***

Bright light streams in through the window.  He tries to block the light by shoving his face deeper into her cleavage.  He feels her laugh.  “Good morning.”

He groans, “Stop yelling.”

She whispers, “I’m not.  How’s your head?”

He groans.  “I don’t remember drinking enough to justify this.”

“Did he buy or bring the ale?”

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t the stuff Flissa sells.”

She laughs softly, “Rule number two:  Always ask what’s in a drink handed you by Iron Bull.”

“What’s the first one?”

“Don’t ever try to keep up with Iron Bull.  Rule number three: Don’t try to keep up with Iron Bull especially if he’s handing you the drinks.”  She runs her fingers along his scalp, massaging his head as she goes.  He moans.

“That’s nice.”  He sighs, “When do you leave?”

“Shh… don’t worry about that right now.  I don’t want to move yet.”

“I don’t either but someone’s going to bang on that door eventually.  It’s going to hurt.”

“Is your hangover that bad?”

“Yes.  But it always hurts when you leave… I... I… shouldn’t have…”  He looks up at her.  She brushes her finger along his jaw.

“I know what you mean.”  He rolls her onto her back and moves on top of her.  He kisses her neck and she winces.  “What?  Did I hurt you?”  He looks down at the spot he kissed.  A deep purple bruise stares up at him.  He groans.  “I’m so sorry.  I guess I got a little carried away last night.”

She smiles, “It’s fine.  I’m just glad more didn’t happen.  I would hate for you not to remember that.”

He blushes, “Me too.”  He looks over at the window.  He sits up, straddling her.  “Have I ever told you how breathtaking you are?”  She blushes and hides her face.  He moves her hands away from her face and holds them in his.  “You are.  Breathtaking, I mean.”

She pulls a hand away runs her finger down the scar on his lip.  He smirks at her touch.  She smiles brightly.  She runs her finger along his bottom lips.  “I...”  She stops herself.  She knows she means it, but she can’t bring herself to say it.  Not when she’s about to leave.  “I want…”  How does she word what she’s about to say?  She is staring at his warm honey eyes and just forgets what words are.

He moves and sits next to her, allowing her to sit up.  He takes her face between his hands.  “You don’t have to say anything.  We don’t have to talk about us.  Tell you what.  When the Breach is finally closed, we’ll go off someplace.  Away from Haven.  Just the two of us.  We won’t tell anyone where we’re going.  No one will be able to find us, except maybe Leliana.”  She laughs.  “Then we’ll talk.  And maybe not talk.  If that’s what you want.”

She smiles, “You never fail to surprise me.  You always know what to say.”

“Does that work for you?”

“Yes.  I would love that.”  He leans in closer, their lips a breath away.  He smirks.

“3… 2… 1…”  Gentle knocking.  “Every time.”  He stands up and offers her his hand.  She takes it and he helps her stand.  He wraps his arms around her waist and picks her up.  She giggles and throws her arm around his neck.  He inhales against her neck.  She turns her head to smell his hair.  He slowly lowers her to the ground.  He runs his hands up her back.  She runs her hands down his arms. Gentle knocking.  She kisses his chest and backs away.  They make eye contact.  A wordless goodbye.  He crawls back in bed as her watches her dress.

She slings her new axe onto her back.  “That’s new.”

She smiles at him, “I’m trying it out.  I think I could hit a whole group at once with this baby.”

He smiles.  “Somehow you swinging a gigantic axe around makes me feel a lot better about your safety.  Who are you taking with you to deal with the mages?”

“Dorian, Cassandra, and Varric.  I still haven’t decided if I’m conscripting or allying with them though.  I suppose I’ll figure that out as we go.”

“I trust your judgement.  But if you want something to sway you, Vivienne would absolutely hate it if you allied with them.”

“Hmm.  Good to know.”  She rushes over and kisses him on the forehead. She goes to the door and unbolts it.  She turns back to get on final look at him.

He smirks, “Be safe.”

She smiles back, “Always.”  She leaves closing the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all the comments! Love you guys!
> 
> UPDATED July 20, 2018


	21. Family Portrait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** pov/time shift
> 
> So, I was too excited to wait to post this tomorrow! This is what happens when I get amazing comments!

It has been a few days since Shea left for Redcliffe Castle for her meeting with the leader of this Tevinter cult, the Venatori.  It’s mostly business as usual though on his end.  Nothing crazy happening.  Though that kind of thing is never far away.

He has been having talks with her brother and planning their trip after the Breach is closed.  Emeric doesn’t want to know what happened.  Even after figuring out that he was missing time, he still didn’t want to know.  He has fully healed, the nightmares are minimal, and he feels like his trust in Solas is proof enough that he isn’t a danger to mages.  Cullen knows all too well that it doesn’t work that way.  He is thankful Shea didn’t take Bull with her.  He at least had someone who didn’t need him to spell it all out just so they could be on the same page.  Plus it is nice to have a man to talk to.  A big horned bisexual man who sometimes hits on him when he has too much to drink.  But ultimately, he has an actual friend he knows can keep secrets.

Cullen is busy reading a report from the soldiers investigating Emeric’s trail, when Shadow enters his tent.  “I have news, but there are ears all around here.  Where can we go?”  Cullen stands.  He grabs the report, because he wants to compare it to her findings.  “Follow me.”  He leads the way to the war room.  “Wait inside.  I need to get Sister Nightingale and Iron Bull.  They need to hear what you have to say.”

“I think maybe you should hear this first, before you involve them.  After that, you can decide for yourself.”

“Alright.”  He closes the door and leans against the table.  “Go ahead.”

“We found shattered reports that Emeric wasn’t travelling alone.”

“Did he meet this person in Ostwick?”

“No.  He boarded a ship bound for Jadar.  That much is true, but that ship made a stop in Highever.  He paid the captain a lot of coin to stop and wait for him.  Then he boarded the ship with a hooded figure and they continued to Jadar.  A few merchants in Jadar say they saw a man matching Emeric’s description travelling south along the Imperial Highway with this hooded figure.  These sightings all weeks before he arrived here.  We did find the blood trail Sister Nightingale’s men found and I matches perfectly to his story.  But if there was an attack, it didn’t happen there.  His injuries were sustained elsewhere.”

“Where has he been all this time?”

“We think he was in Kinloch Hold.  It was abandoned after the apprentice, Minaeve, brought the tranquil here.”

“Why do you think he was there?”

“We found Venatori there.  They are dead now.  But I found this letter on one of them.  To summarize, it’s a plan to plant a mole inside the Inquisition.  Someone we would trust without question.  I guess more accurately someone the Herald would trust without question.”

“He was recruited.”

“It appears so yes.  Whether the plan was for him to kill her or just watch and report, is unknown.  If I had to offer my opinion on the matter, I believe his wounds were self-inflicted.  Or his cohorts helped him make an ambush look believable.”

“So he has no memory loss and he wasn’t tortured?”

“I was not able to question the Venatori before killing them.  So, I don’t know.”

“Where is Moira?”

“At a safe distance.  She didn’t think it wise for her to see him, if you wanted to question him alive.  This is not why I wanted to talk to you alone, ser.”

He stiffens.  He does not like the tone in her voice.  “What is it?”

“The Venatori… had information on you.  I believe it’s why they chose to meet in Kinloch Hold.  They were looking for reports of your time there.  They had copies of reports from Kirkwall as well.  They seem to be compiling your history.”

“Do you have those copies?”  She rolls up her sleeves.  Each arm has a rolls of paper tied to them.  She’s unties the first stack and hands it to him.

“These are the reports they had from Kirkwall.”  She unties the second stack and hands it to him.  “There’s were the ones they were readying when we killed them in Kinloch.”

“Were they acting alone on this?  Or were they reporting to someone?”

“I don’t know.  This may have nothing to do with the Herald’s brother.  But I felt it vital to let you know.”

He smooths the small stack of reports on the table.  “Did… did you read any of them?”

“No, ser.  I just read enough to learn where they were from and who they were about.”

“Is there anything else to report?”

“No, ser.  I was planning to return with Moira to Kinloch.  To track if they sent this information anywhere and how exactly Emeric was involved.”

“Thank you.  You may go.”  She salutes and exits the war room.

 _This is not good.  Why were Venatori digging up information on me?  What could they possibly gain?  They could use it against me, weaken the Inquisition.  I should relieve myself of Command.  I’m going to have to read these report.  So much for leaving that life behind._   He snatches the reports off the table.  He is about to find a secluded place to read and have a meltdown, when a thought occurs to him.  He motions to a solider standing in the hall.

“Ser?”

“Could you bring Leliana to the war room?  Be as discreet as possible.”

“Yes, ser.”  He salutes and goes to find her.  Cullen goes back into the war room, throws the reports down, and presses his palms into the table.  Leliana enters from a side door.

“Cullen?  I was told you needed to see me in private.”

He shoves away from the table.  “I had left it all behind me.  And there it is.”  He gestures to the stack of reports, “Documented and laying before me.  You were there!  You saw what they… Now someone is digging it up.”  She pulls the stack towards her.  She starts flipping through them.

“Reports from Kinloch Hold.  From your time there.  And reports from your time at Kirkwall.  Where did you get these?”

“Shadow.  She came to report her findings then return to the field.  She found those on a group of Venatori inside the hold.  She also found this letter, which I haven’t read, that does not look good on our theories about Shea’s brother.”  He shoves it across the table to her.  She picks it up and reads it.  “I don’t know to do, Leliana.  This could have huge implications.  I should relieve myself of command.”

“No.  I won’t let you do that.  We still need you.  These reports, about your past, though we need to know who has this information and why, does not affect your ability to lead.  I am aware of what happened because I was there when the Hero of Ferelden saved you.  I am also aware of the things that happened in Kirkwall, which were not your fault.  Cassandra knows that too.  Your past has not stopped you and will not stop you.”

“Can you imagine what would happen if…”

“I will keep this quiet.  That is my job as spymaster and your friend.  The more pressing concern is Emeric.  If he was recruited, we need to know how and why.”

“We may have to wait for that.  If we make any action towards him, Shea would… She said that whatever happens, she should be the one to handle it.  That doesn’t mean we stop watching him or trying to get answers.  It just means we have to play the long game.”

She nods, “Agreed.  We must be careful.  Should I take these or do you want them?”

“I need you to read them.  See if you can find some reason behind why anyone would want them.  Once you are done, then yes.  I want them.”

“Alright.  I’ll see what I can find out form them.”  She walks over to him and places her hand on his arm.  “If we are keeping this a secret, you’re going to have to pull yourself together.  Business as usual.  Can you handle that?”

He nods.  “I’ll be fine.  I just need a few minutes.”

“I’m here if you need me.”  She leaves out the side door and softly closes it behind her.  He leans forward pressing his palms on the table.  _Andraste preserve me.  Shut the demons out of my mind.  Push the fears and scars away.  Help me be strong.  I will not let this break me._ He takes a deep breath and pushes away from the table.  He runs a gloved hand through his hair and exits the war room.

***

_Cullen,_

_I wanted to apologize.  I… needed time to… recover from… what just happened.  I know you got my report, which Cassandra had to write for me.  My hands are still shaking.  I was in the future with Dorian.  The future!  The things I saw there…  I cannot let it happen!  I will not let it happen!_

_I…  I wish you were here.  I’m freaking out.  I can’t sleep._

_I think the mark knows what’s coming.  It has been flaring more lately.  Or maybe it was all the weird… time... rifts I closed…_

_All this weird shit has me thinking.  Something is very off with Emeric.  I have no idea what it is, but some of the stuff he says doesn’t sound like him.  It’s hard to explain._

_Maker… my brain will not shut off.  I just want to be safe in your arms right now._

_There will no meeting when we get back.  I’m putting my foot down.  I need to process.  We can do it at noon or some other time of the day._

_Miss you, as always._

_Shea_

He sets the letter on his desk.  He can’t even remember how many times he’s read it.  She hasn’t been freaked out like this in a long time.  But something about your letter kept pulling him back to it.  Was it that she felt safe in his arms?  No, he already knew she felt that way.  Something being off about her brother?  Maybe, but he already suspected that.  The mark flaring more?  Maybe, it had been calm for so long.  He has no idea why he is stuck on it.  He puts it away then.  No sense in staring at it all day.

He figures she’ll be back late this evening at some point.  He needs to prepare what he is going to tell her about their findings.  She asked him to look into it when her brother arrived, so he should be the one to tell her, that Emeric might be a mole and might be lying to all of them.

Bull called him an expert liar, if he was lying.  None of his facial features gave anything away.  Since Shadow left, no new information has come in.  They even pulled the men back in who were out investigating since they had someone else on it.

He stands up from his desk.  He walks out and towards the war room, waving at Bull to follow.

“What’s going?”

“I need help figuring out what the hell I’m going to say about all this.”

“About your girlfriend’s brother?  I got ya.”  Cullen chokes on air and coughs.

“What… how…”

“Ben-Hassrath remember?  It’s not hard to put the pieces together once you get going.  That and your reaction just now.  I know that’s why we hang out so much, I’m good with secrets.”

“That you are.  In any case, we haven’t labelled anything.  We’re friends, but beyond that…”

“Trying to wait for the crazy to stop?  News flash, doesn’t sound like it’s going anywhere with or without the glowing hole in the sky.  _Vints.”_

Cullen laughs, “No kidding.  And time magic.”

“I’m so tired of this magical crap.”

Leliana isn’t in her tent when he passes.  He hopes she in the war room.  Sure enough, she is.  Shadow is there too.  “Oh, good.  I was about to send for you.”  Cullen closes the door.

“We have good news.”

Bull grunts, “And bad news.  There’s always bad news if someone mentions the mood of their news first.”

She grins, “Yes, and bad news.  Shadow has discovered without a doubt that the Venatori never sent the…” she pauses looking at Cullen.

“I told him about.  Go on.”

“Never sent the reports they dug up on you.  There was a dead templar in Kirkwall in the room they keep records, but no one knows what records are missing.   That’s the good news.

“If a dead templar if good news, I am extremely worried about that bad.”

Shadow steps forward, “When I left Moira to report in, she went back to Ostwick.  When she arrived, she sent me a letter.  She apologized for leaving, but she had a time sensitive idea.  Her efforts bore fruit, she sent her findings and is fleeing Ostwick.  Emeric was in fact recruited to be a mole, though he didn’t know they were Venatori.  It seems Emeric, like his father, believes she is not the Herald of Andraste and volunteered to be a spy so he could find out for himself.”

“According to the Herald, they lived a very sheltered life.  How would he have mastered being a spy in that short amount of time?”

Leliana chimes in, “The Trevelyans are spies inside the Order.  Trained unknowingly from a very young age.  For centuries, the family has been trained to hide all emotion.  If they took that a step further, they would be Seekers.  Emptied of emotion, touched by Faith.  The older children never know, but the younger children, like the Herald, who chose to become templars are turned into spies when they take their vows.  It’s tied to the lyrium.  I’m sure it’s more than just taking it.  A spell?  Maybe that’s what Solas felt in his mind?”

Cullen’s whole world just shifted.  “I… I’m not sure how to respond.  That’s… big.  How has this gone unnoticed for so long?  Who starts their training?”

“It stays within the family,” Leliana shakes her head, “and I’m afraid that answers both questions.  Moira has stolen a ledger from House Trevelyan.  She’s trying to find a safe and secret way to get it to us.  It is old and has the name of every member of the family.  They report back to the highest ranking family member.  Until recently that was Knight-Captain Hayden Trevelyan.  The information is mostly harmless.  Until now.”

“Who starts this?”

“Why the person who raised them, of course.  It’s the Bann’s job to prepare them.  If he sees potential, he’ll point them in the direction of the templars instead of the chantry.  Again, we don’t know exactly how they become hardened spies, but know the lyrium is part of it.”

Cullen presses his palms into the table, “Which means, Brandon, who is set to become Bann when his father dies, will be training his children to become templar spies through family tradition.  Emeric wasn’t supposed to become a spy, but would also train his children.  And the Herald, had things been different, would have been one.  Are they even aware that this happened to them?”

“Yes.  They know.  Once the abilities become active, they know they are spies, they are instructed to make copies of every report they file and send it to the highest ranking family member.  But again it’s harmless.  It makes them very good at tracking apostates and running efficient Circles.  The problem this brings up is Emeric.  How and why has he been activated?  What we do know is that he has no memory loss, he knows what he is doing.  And everything he sees and hears is being reported to someone.”

Bull speaks up, “This sounds a lot like Ben-Hassrath training.”

Cullen squeezes the bridge of his nose, “What am I supposed to tell her now?  Her brother is fine, probably injured himself to get here and easily gain our trust, and is a spy to some unknown power?  What are we supposed to do with this information?”

Leliana crosses her arms, “She deserves to know the truth, no matter how upsetting.  She has a rapport with him, maybe we can turn this to our advantage.”

Cullen nods, “She does deserve to know the truth.  I’ll leave it up her how she wants to handle it.  I just hope he was just sent as a spy and not an assassin.”

Bull grunts, “She’s not easy to kill.  And she’s smart.  I bet she already feels he’s hiding something.  She can protect herself.  And we’ve got her back.”

Cullen pushes back from the table, “Then that settles it.  I’ll tell her everything we know.  Let her decide what to do.  We need to send people to rescue Moira and quickly.”

Leliana nods to Shadow, who leaves the war room.  “I’ve already assigned Shadow to lead a group of our fastest people to retrieve her.  With luck, she’ll be here soon.”

They end their secret meeting and Cullen stays behind.  He thinks long and hard about every Trevelyan he’s ever met.  Were there any at Kinloch?  He knew that Hayden had come to Kirkwall.  Does he have Trevelyan spies to thank for the Venatori digging up information?  He finds that hard to believe.  People hate Tevinter.  If they were loyal and faithful to the Andrastian Chantry, he just can’t see them siding with them.  Yet Emeric was in Kinloch at some point with Venatori agents.

How is he supposed to break this news to her gently?  Maybe there isn’t a way.  Maybe he’ll just have to tell her somewhere that she could let her hurt and anger out.  He feels sorry for the trees and possibly him, when he takes her to that clearing.

***

Shea feels like a mother duck leading a line of magic ducklings into Haven.  They are going to need to do something about all these people.  Haven is becoming very cramped.  She doesn’t know how things are going to get better between the mages and templars when they are right on top of each other.  With all the stress and more and more problems stacking up, she is looking forward to getting this Breach sealed and moving onto to other tasks.  For now, she tries to push everything else out of her mind.  Focus on the Breach.  Focus on figuring out what the hell is happening with Emeric.  Focus on taking a break with Cullen.

She is smiling when they finally ride into Haven.  Cullen is standing by the stables.  He has a bag with him and his shield is strapped to his back.  “It seems you have plans for me, Commander.”  She slides off her horse and hands the reins to the stable boy who has come up to her.   “Are you sure we’re ready to be knocked on your ass?”

He smirks, “I’m not sure you’ll manage that.  I’ve been sparring with Bull and he’s a lot bigger than you.”

“Oh, this should be good.  Lead on, Commander.”  They walk together into the trees.  “What’s in the bag?”

“Just some things I’ve prepared.  You’ll see when we arrive.”

She looks behind them.  They are well within the tree line.  There is no way anyone will see them.  She weaves her fingers into his, holding his hand.  He sighs softly.  She seems so happy.  He hates to ruin her mood, but it needs to be done.  She needs to know.  They walk in silence until they reach their clearing.  Cullen stops and sets the bag down.

“You sure are quiet today.”

“I’m sorry.”

He pulls a blanket from the bag and spreads it out in the snow.  “Are we having a picnic?”

“There is some food in the bag, yes.”  He pulls out some bread and fruit.  He then pulls out a bottle. 

“Is that our wine?”

He can’t help but smile.  “No.  I was saving that.  It’s ale.  From Flissa, not Iron Bull.”

“Any other surprises in that bag?”

“Yes, but let’s eat first.  I want to enjoy this… happy moment while we can.”

She sits down on the blanket and looks down at her hands, “While we can?  Is something wrong?”

Cullen sits across from her.  “Yes, but not with us!  No, this is perfect.  I… just have… can we eat or do you want to skip to the reason I brought you all the way out here?”

She looks up at him and finds concern in his honey eyes.  “What’s happened?  You know something.  Out with it.”

He reaches into his bag and pulls out a piece of paper.  “Before you read this, I need you to promise that you will sit there and listen to everything I have to say.  Then if you need to hit something or scream or cry or whatever,” he motions to the clearing. “That’s why we’re here.”

She takes a slow deep breath, “This must be serious.  More serious than… well, everything.  I will try my best to sit here and listen.  I will get all information before flying off the handle.”

“Then here goes.”  He holds of the paper.  “This note was found by one of our people on Venatori agents in Kinloch Hold.”  He lets her read.  Her brows furrow and she looks up at him and opens her mouth to speak.  He holds up his hand.  “There’s more.  This scout tracked your brother from Ostwick to Highever, where he met with a hooded figure.  He then travelled with that person to Jadar and then on to Kinloch Hold.”

“I’m sorry.  I have to ask.  This letter is about Emeric?”

“Yes.  According to our source, he was recruited in Ostwick.  We’ve learned…”  He doesn’t know if he should shatter everything she knows about her family.

“Ok.  This part must be worse than my brother being recruited by Venatori.  Which is really fucking bad as it is.”

He takes a deep breath, “We learned some things about your family history.  Some potentially life altering things.”

“Shit.  I… just say it.  Blurt it out.  Don’t look at me when you do it if that helps.”

Cullen looks down at his hands, takes a deep breath, and says as quickly as he can, “You come from a family of templar spies.  They train you from a young age to control your emotions.  If the Bann thinks the younger children have potential, he will try to get them to choose templar over chantry.  They are trained in various forms of combat.  Then sent for templar training.  Once vows and lyrium are taken, something else is done, to activate the spy training.  Bull says it’s like taking Ben-Hassrath training in a very short amount of time.  Every facial feature is able to be controlled and they become masters at lying.  This practice is mostly harmless as all the information gathered is used to improve the order.  The problem is that Emeric, who was never meant to have his training activated, has.  And we don’t know why or by who.”

She blinks at him, “Did… you said… spies?!  Templar spies?!  How… where… who…”  He takes her hand.

“Deep breath.”  She does.  “And again.”  She does.  “And one more time.”  She does and smiles.  “Now.  Slow down.  One question at a time.”

“When did this start?”

“Centuries ago.”

“We’ve been spies for centuries?”

“From what we can tell, since your house was formed.  We have a ledger that dates back a very long time.”

“Who told you all this?  Who’s the source?”

“Moira.  She was helping our scout search for information.  While you were dealing with the mages, the scout and Moira found and took out the Venatori at Kinloch.  The scout came in to report and Moira went back to Ostwick on a hunch.  She went through your brother’s things and found the recruitment letter.  Then went through your father’s study and stole this ledger.  She read some of it and sent our scout a report.  She is currently fleeing Ostwick.  Last report said she was heading north to Antiva.”

“Moira?  My Moira?!  You were using my Moira?!”

“Now, calm down.  She was already doing this on her own when I sent the scout to her for protection.  I also had a hunch.  We’ve been in contact for some time now.  I didn’t want to tell you before I had more information.”

“Define some time now?”

“Shortly after Emeric arrived.  I wanted to know if he was missing.  Knowing that our messenger didn’t receive a warm welcome last time, we wanted to plant someone inside your house to connect with Moira, to observe what was going on in the house, and report back.  When the scout arrived, Moira was gone.  She had tracked him to the docks, but couldn’t get anyone to take her across.  Our scout stayed with her every step of the way.  She was protected.”

She sighs, “Well, this is a mess.  What am I supposed to do?  What would you do?”

He looks up at her, “You are handling this surprisingly well.”

“Well, when you’ve been dealing with an ass load of crazy for months, adding more crazy on top just makes the pile bigger.  Plus, something felt off with Emeric when I was talking to him before I left.  Now I know what.  His emotion is so under control, his old personality is gone.”

Cullen smiles, “It sounds like you have an idea brewing.”

“You know what.  I think I do.  Emeric’s been acting all terrified by magic.  Don’t know why, but that doesn’t matter.  If his assignment is to kill me, then he would need to see me do magic.  Not hard.  I’m closing a big fucking hole in the sky with my hand magic with the help a whole bunch of mages in the next couple of days.  At best, it might prove to him I’m the Herald of Andraste by fixing the sky, we can turn him, get his intel.  At worst, he tries to kill me in front of a bunch of people.  But that’s assuming he can keep his story straight.”

“I don’t like the idea of you as bait.”

“Hang on, it might even get that far.  We need to distract him while we prepare to close the Breach.  This does a few things.  One: It prevents him from seeing all those mages practicing.  Two: We can get Bull to get him really drunk and try to break him.  Now, that I know that this isn’t blood magic and just some bullshit spy training, I’m ok with his mind being poked.  Only if that doesn’t work, we take him to the Breach.  He doesn’t have to stand next to me.”

Cullen rubs his chin, “I have a counter to that.  First, plant a new mage, maybe Dorian, somewhere he feels safe.  He is probably been reporting back, we can have Bull find out where he’s writing, maybe with the drinking thing.  Two, we have Dorian cast some magic near him.  What’s Dorian good at?”

She smiles, “Necromancy.”

“What seriously?  That’s perfect.  Ok. So we have Dorian ‘accidentally’ do something slightly dangerous near him in his safe space to gauge his reaction.   One thing I’ve noticed about you and your brother, you have expressive eyes.  If you are faking an emotion, it doesn’t touch your eyes.  So, if the freak out is real, we’ll be able to tell.  And he’ll have to find a new safe place.  Giving someone the chance to go through his stuff.”

“Hmm.  Expressive eyes huh?”  He blushes, “I like most of that.  Also it’ll be fun see what Dorian comes up with.  We’ll use my bait thing as plan b.”

“I think I can live with that.  Are you ok?”

“I’m going to have to process this later.  When I have less crazy on my plate.  My brain has found a way to cope without my knowledge.”

“So, you’re good?”

“For now.  I like having a plan.  I’m not so good when things go off track though, plan wise.  That’s why I make a lot of plans for something and hope for the best.”

He leans in close to her.  He runs his finger down her neck and pulls the collar her armor away.  The bruise is almost gone.  “Did any see that?”

“Ugh.  Yes.  Everything was going great until I tripped on some stupid rumble under some stupid future water.  Dorian caught me and saw it.  Proceeded to poke it and beg for details.  And he just wouldn’t stop.  I mean there I was trying to close a stupid overpowered time rift and he’s buzzing around naming every person he can think of, man or woman, who could have possibly left their mark on me.  He kept saying whomever left was marking their territory.”

He blushes and rubs his neck.  “I wasn’t… I swear I…  Maker’s breath.”

She laughs, “You are too cute. You know that?”

“Cute?  I’m cute?  Not rugged or handsome or strong.  I’m _cute_?”  She nods, “I’ve called you beautiful, pretty, gorgeous.  I’ve said you are smart and caring.  And you give me cute?”

He pushes onto her back and straddles her.  She giggles trying to push him off.  “Maybe I should mark you higher up so you can’t cover it.  How _cute_ will I be then?”

He leans forward with his mouth open.  She tries to shove his face away.  “Don’t you dare!  Cullen Rutherford!  Don’t!”  He grabs her wrists and pins them to the ground.  “This is really not fair.”

“Then stop me.”  He presses his lips hard against her neck.  She moans.

“You’re going to pay for this.” He chuckles and nips at her neck.  “Don’t do it.”  He gently bites her.  She growls.  An idea enters her mind as she struggles against him.  She plants her feet on the ground and shoves as hard as she can, thrusting her hips into him.  The force makes him flip onto his back over her head.  She springs up and jumps on top of him.  He goes to lean up and she pins his arms to the ground.  “Ha!  Not so fun no is it?”

He smirks, “I don’t think you can hold me down unless I wanted you to.”

“Ok.  Then stop me.”  She bites his neck.

“Ow!”  She stops biting to laugh.  This is his chance.  He slips his arms out of her grasp and flips her into the snow.  She hits the ground and laughs uncontrollably.  He stands and walks over to her.  She continues to laugh.  He smiles down at her as he towers above her.  “What’s so funny?”

“Who’s marked now?”

“You didn’t.  How bad is it?”

“Not as bad as the one you left on me, but good luck hiding it.”  She holds her sides as she laughs.  He smiles watching her laugh in the snow.  Eventually she quiets down and stares up at him. 

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing.  I just like looking at you.”

He holds a hand out to her.  She takes it and he pulls her up out of the snow.  He brushes the snow from her hair.  “I like looking at you too.  Just so you know.”

“Oh really?  What else do you like?”  She leans closer to him.  He puts one hand in the small of her back and pulls her in the rest of the way.  They stare into each other’s eyes.

“I like looking it your eyes.”

“Mmm.  I like that too.”

“I like just being in the same room with you.”

“We like a lot of the same things.”

“I like how much shorter you are than me.”

“Being a whole head shorter than you has its disadvantages.”  She goes up on her toes a little to kiss his chin.

“But you’re the perfect for this.”  He kisses her forehead.

“I like… kissing your chest… provided there isn’t armor there.”

“Oh, I really like doing that to you.”

“Mmm.  I think you know I like it when you do.”

He leans down to rest his forehead on hers.  “I like waking up to you.”

“And falling asleep with you.”

She brushes her nose against his.

“I like the way you smell.”

“You made me a shirt with your smell on it.  I think you know I like that.”  The mark on her hand flares.  “I don’t like it when it does that.”

“Does it still hurt you?”

“A little.  I’ve just gotten used it and can ignore the…”  She cries out in pain as the mark blazes.  She falls to her knees.  They hear a loud crack.  Through gritted teeth she says, “Go see what in the hell that was.” 

Cullen touches her gently and runs through the trees.  Branches scratch his face as he barrels through them.  He stutters to a stop at the edge of the tree line.  _Maker’s balls._   The Breach is active.  Nothing has fallen out yet, but it looks angry.  He hears stumbling behind him.  She emerges from the trees clutching her marked hand to her chest.  She sighs.  “Looks like its plan b.”  She squeezes her fist tightly.  “Calm down you, bastard.  I get it the Breach is open.”

He does a quick once over of both of them.  Armor, weapons, shield.  All check.  “Do you have that letter?”  She nods, shaking her hand.  He goes through the list of things in his bag.  Nothing important.  “Ok, let’s go.”  He takes her marked hand in his and squeezes it firmly.  She lets him drag her out of the trees and into camp.  She listens to him bark orders at all the people who are standing stunned and afraid.  “Soldiers! Set up a perimeter!  Eyes open for demons!  Archers, Officers, and Mages!  With me!” 

Everyone jumps into action.  An officer yells, “Form ranks!  Mages in the center!”  The officers form the outside lines.  The experienced mages stand between them.  The archers form rows at the front.

Cullen turns to Shea.  “Still flaring?”  She nods.  All of her gathered companions come spilling out of Haven.  Emeric is leaning against the stables staring up at the Breach.  She leans up to his ear.  “Have Bull stay close to him with the Chargers.”  She squeezes his hand and they release.  She goes over to Solas and whispers something to him.  He does some magic over her hand and he sees her sigh.  She mouths thank you.  Cullen waves over Iron Bull.

“So this is not what we had in mind obviously, but here’s the plan.  You and the Chargers stay close to Emeric.  Watch his eyes.  She’s about ask him to go with her.  Detain him if he tries to kill her.”

“You mean don’t kill him?  Roughing him up ok?”

“Yes.  She wants to deal with him herself.”

“Got it.  Nice bite mark by the way.”  Bull runs back to the chargers and whispers their orders.  Cullen turns beat red.

Shea walks up to Emeric and holds out her unmarked hand to him.  He takes it.  “Will… will you come with me?”

“Why would you want that?”

“The last time I did this, it almost killed me, and all I did was stabilize it.  I want the damn thing closed.  And if I’m going to die, I want you to be with me.”

He nods.  “Then let’s go.”

Cullen and the troops behind him lead the way.  Followed by Cassandra leading all the others.  Then Shea and Emeric.  The Iron Bull and the Chargers bringing up the rear.  The villagers of Haven are all gathered at the gate watching them go.  Cries of “Maker be with you” and “Andraste guide you” echo through the valley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what's going to happen next :D
> 
> Love all your comments! Keep them coming!
> 
> UPDATED July 21, 2018


	22. Disco Inferno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting intense!!
> 
> *** time/pov shift

“Archers!  To the perimeter!”  Cullen points around the edges of the temple ruin.  The large rift is open, but nothing has come out.   “Mages!  Form two lines!  One high, one low!”  Points to the area he wants directly across from the rift.  “Officers! With me!”  He turns to Cassandra, “Seeker.  We’re ready.”  He runs to a broken wall near the rift.  “Men.  Form a circle.  We need to take care of anything that comes out of there before it reaches the Herald.”  They do as instructed.  Cassandra stands in front the mages.  Solas comes to stand next to her.  The rest hang back to watch and wait.  They will act if needed.  Sera already as an arrow ready to fly pointed right at the rift.

Shea and Emeric take a few steps toward the rift.  She looks over at him.  _Looks like a good view of what’s about to happen._   She squeezes his hand and let’s go.  The Chargers form an arc behind him and Bull moves to stand in a good spot to see his eyes.

Shea looks at Cassandra.  Exchanging a nod, Shea walks toward the rift.  Cassandra turns, “Mages!” 

Solas readies his staff, “Focus past the Herald!  Let her will draw from you!”  The closer Shea gets to the fade rift the angrier both it and the mark become.  She clinches her jaw pushing forward through the pain.  She stops with her fists clinched at her side.  Solas raises his staff in front of him.  The mages drive their staffs to the ground and kneel.  Shea feels all of their magic flow through her and into the mark.  She feels strong and powerful.    _This will work!  I just know it!  Close you, bastard!_

She quickly raises her mark to the rift letting her energy and that of all the mages flow through it.  A green bolt shoots out, sparking and crackling through the air.  She grinds her heels into the ground as the force threatens to knock her back.  She leans in to watch the rift react.  It pulses and she can feel it give way.  It snaps closed sending shockwaves that knocks everyone down.  She falls to one knee and looks up as the pulse hits the Breach.  It sizzles and cracks.  Slamming closed and fades from the sky, leaving only the disturbed clouds and a faint green light.  She waits completely still.  She feels the mark go completely calm.  Not a single tremor.  She lets out a small sigh of relief as the green light in the sky fades away completely.

She slowly stands as Cassandra rushes towards her shoving people out of the way.  She touches her shoulder and looks up at the sky, “You did it.”  Everyone in the area cheers loudly.  Shea’s eyes meet Cullen.  His smile bright.  She smiles back.  It’s gone.  It’s over.  A flash of movement catches her eye.  She turns as Bull collides with Emeric, tackling him to the ground.  Krem grabs Emeric hand and rips the dagger from it.  Emeric yells and struggles under Bull’s weight.  Bull rears back and punches him in the face, knocking him out cold.

Even though she suspected it would happen, she was hoping beyond all hope that it wouldn’t.  Cullen goes to her.  “Are you alright?”

“Both plans worked.  So, yes?  I’m happy it’s over, but,” she sighs, “I hate being right sometimes.”

“Come.  Let’s go back to Haven.”

Everyone starts leaving the temple.  Some of her companions clap her on the back as she passes.  Despite her brother being her would be assassin, she can’t help but smile.  This is a victory.  The celebration in Haven will be epic.  Then once they have dealt with her brother, she and Cullen will make their escape.  To get some much needed time alone, before they start putting the world back together.  She watches Bull no so gently sling her unconscious brother over his shoulder.   Emeric’s hands have been bound with rope.  She is all too familiar with the cell he will be going to.  Another Trevelyan a prisoner beneath the chantry.  It comes full circle.

***

Now back at Haven, the celebration rages.   Every soul, villagers, merchants, scouts, soldiers, servants, are all drinking and dancing and cheering in the streets.  Every so often cheers of “To the Herald of Andraste” ring out and they take a drink.  She sits on a small wall by the fire.  Raising her empty cup to anyone who toasts her.  She couldn’t bring herself to drink.  When they are done getting information from Emeric, she is going to see him.  She wants to get it over with and doesn’t want to be drunk when she does.  So, she pretends.  No one notices.

Dorian swaggers over to her.  He’s not drunk yet, but he will be soon.  “So, Herald, you’ve just closed the great big hole in the sky, what will you do now?  Will she press on saving the world or does she have a romantic evening planned with a certain ex-templar?  Inquiring minds want to know.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, ser.”  She smiles.

“Ah!  So, the second one then.  When does that begin, I wonder?”

“You just want to see the dashing ex-templar without any clothes on.  I would only block your view.”

He winks, “So, you’ve caught on have you?  Well, then ruin my fun.”

“Hey.  I’m not stopping you, but I know when I’ve been had.”

“Touché.  You know I could give you a few pointers…”

She laughs, “I seem to do pretty well on my own, thank you.  You know, if you play your cards right, I bet Varric would let you touch his chest hair.  If you do it tonight, I’ll split my winnings with you.”

“Oh.  There’s a wager going?”

She nods, “I bet Varric 20 gold that you would be the first one to try and succeed in touching his chest hair.”

“Why does it have to be tonight?”

“Oh that’s my wager with you.  If you can do it tonight, not only do you get to make a spectacle of yourself but you also get 10 gold.”

“Ooooh.  I do love a spectacle and a challenge.  You, dear Herald, have a deal.”  He shakes her hand and sways over to Varric.  She wishes she were close enough to hear.  Cullen walks up next to her and places a hand on her shoulder.  She looks up at him.

“He’s clammed up.  He will only talk to you.”  She reaches up to him and he helps her stand.  “You think you can handle this?”

She nods, “Oh, I’m all business.  He won’t be dealing with Shea.  His sweet, younger sister.  He’s getting the Herald of Andraste, the bad ass.”

He smiles at her, “He’s chained, so he can’t attack you, but I’m not leaving the room.  Don’t even ask for me to.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”  She walks beside him into the chantry.  She chuckles.

“What?”

            “It’s weird how everything has come completely full circle.  Like this whole thing played in reverse.  The Breach opened and there’s a Trevelyan in chains.  Breach closed, Trevelyan in chains.  I wonder if all landmark events with end with a Trevelyan in chains.”

He chuckles, “I mean that can be arranged, I just don’t think you’ll be into that.  I know I’m not.”

She shakes her head, “Men.”  They approach the cell door.  She takes a deep breath and crosses her arms over her chest.  Then nods to the guard to open it.  It’s eerie how similar it all feels.  Emeric on his knees, shackles, head down.  An imposing woman, at least she hoped she looked imposing, and a survivor of the Fifth Blight walking into the darkened cell.  She doesn’t say a word.  She walks around him.  Cullen leans on the wall near the closed door hand wrapped firmly around the hilt of his sword.  She makes a full circle and stands in front of him.  She stares down at him in silence for a minute.  She counts to ten.

“Nothing?  You have nothing to say?”

He lifts his head slowly.  A large bruise darkening on his face.  “What is there to say?”

Her voice is cold, “I can think of a many great many things to say.  You said you wouldn’t talk unless it was me.  So, here I am.  Talk.”

“So cold, dear sister.  No love you your poor, chained brother?”  He rattles the cuffs.

She begins circling him again.  “I could ask you the same question.  But instead I’ll ask another.  Why?”

He looks over at her.  “Why?  You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“That’s it.  Just ‘why’.  Say whatever pops into your head.”

He smirks, “You’ve changed.”

“So, have you.”

“If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you’d grown a backbone.”

Cullen raises his hand at her from across the room.  A stop sign.  He’s trying to get to her.  _Stay cold.  Stay distant.  He’s a prisoner, not your brother._ “I’m still waiting for you to answer.”

“Well, if asked better questions…”

She heads for the door, “Fine.  If you don’t want to talk, I’ll just go.” 

She is about to bang on the door, “Fine!”  She turns back to him giving Cullen a silent low five as she passes.  She plants herself in front of him.  “Like I said, you were dead.  Father kept calling you ‘his heart’.  Mother locked herself away, her sobs echoed down the halls.  Moira locked herself in your room.  I wasn’t sad.  I was angry.”

“Why?”

“That’s all you can say?  Why?  Because I… I was jealous.  Brandon is the golden boy destined of power.  I am a cast off.  Second string.  The back-up plan.  Forced to sit around.  Then you go and die in service of the _family_.  A memorial held in your honor.  An honor which should been taken away when you were given over to the templars.”

“Not by choice.”

“Of course it was by choice.  Would have rather been shopped around like cattle?  Being set up with the perfect pairing to breed more perfect Trevelyans?  No, because you _wanted_ to serve.  You spent your whole life dreaming of the deeds you would do as a templar.”

“You’re dancing around the issue here, brother.”

“You’re right.  I didn’t hate you.  Not then.  Not when you died.  I wanted to kill the bastards that blew you sky high.  But how can you kill something when you don’t know what caused it?  Then your scout arrived. You claimed to be something beyond holy.  Delivered onto the world in its time of need.  It was just like you.  I hated you then.  Turning tragedy into personal gain.”

“I will remind you, that in that letter I said people were calling me that.  It’s not a title I picked for myself.”

“But you grabbed hold of it, didn’t you?  Always trying to serve the faithful so that your name would be remembered with pride and reverence.  Word spread and people prayed to you.  To _you._   Not the Maker or Andraste, but you.  Hearing Father officially disown you, renounce you, felt good.  He was content with that.  Felt that was enough.  Brandon was crushed, of course.  His precious sister.  No title, no home.  He believes, you see.  He believes that Andraste stood behind you, escorted you from the Fade.”

“Stop monologuing and get to the point.  Boohoo, you are a middle child.  We get it.  I want facts.  Not whining.”

“What is there to say?  I tried to kill you, I failed.  Others have tried and failed.  Someone will always keep trying.”

“Why you?  Why recruit you?”

“Didn’t you know Father had an affair while Mother was pregnant with Brandon?”

“What does that have to do with any of this?”  Cullen fells it in the air.  The tingle that disturbs the hairs on his neck.  He goes to stand next to her, ready to draw this sword.  Shea feels him next to her.  What triggered him to stand there?

“Our mother is not _my_ mother.”  Emeric shifts his wrist in his cuffs.  The air thickens.  Only Cullen can feel it.  “ _My_ mother, the woman Father actually loved, is named Emelia.” 

Shea’s hands are at her side.  Cullen slowly reaches forward and grabs her wrist.  He whisper in her ear, “Shea.  Back up.  Slowly.  Now.”

“My mother.  A Tevinter mage falling for a Marcher.  I didn’t even know about her until she wrote me that letter.” 

Cullen’s head throbs. The air is so thick now.  He grits his teeth, “Shea.  Move. Now.” 

Emeric and Shea are glaring at each other.  “I met her in Highever.  She brought me to meet some friends of hers.  I learned a lot.”  Cullen sees a drop of blood fall from the cuffs.  _Shit!  He’s a blood mage!_ “Exalt the Elder One!”  He quickly rises his hands, but nothing happens.  The air is clear of all magic. Shea is still standing in front of her brother, axe to her side.  Blood drips from the blade.  Cullen didn’t feel her slip his grasp or feel her move forward.  She doesn’t move.  She just stands there breathing heavily.

“Shea?”  He walks slowly around her.  He looks first at her face.  Her eyes are closed her face spattered with blood.  For a moment he thinks it’s hers, but then notices it spattered all over the front of her.  Laying on the floor with blood pooling around him is Emeric.  His head removed from his shoulders.   “Shea?”

“I’m ok.”

“Did his spell hit you?”

“He never got the chance to cast it.”  She sighs. “Could you… get this blood off me please?”

“Yes.  Give me a second.”  He knocks on the door, it opens, and he rushes out.  The guard peeks in and she’s still just standing there.

“Herald?  Is everything…”

“Just close the door.  I’m fine.”  He does.

Blood normally doesn’t bother her.  She gets covered in it all the time in the field.  This was different.  It is her brother’s blood.  Magicked blood.  She can feel that it is still charged.  It tingles.  She is afraid of what could happen if she moves.  Probably nothing since the mage is dead, but you can’t be too careful.

Cullen comes back in with a bowl of water and cloth.  He wipes the blood from her face and armor.  It takes a little while, but he thinks he got it all.  “Blade?”  He wipes the blood from her blade.  She finally moves.  Backing away from her brother and returning the axe to her back.  “Quick question.  When a blood mage who is mid casting gets his head chopped off, what happens to the blood?”

“It’s just blood.  If the spell was never completed.”

She sighs, “Ok good.  That’s why I was just standing there.  It tingled and I thought if I moved that it would do something…  I don’t know… blood magey.”

“Nope.  Just blood.  Other than that, are you ok?”

“Yes.  Actually.  I was watching his eyes.  He wasn’t my brother anymore.  Then when he was aiming that spell at you…”

“Wait. Did you feel it in the air?”

“No.  I heard the tiniest amount of fear in your voice.  Not of the magic, but for me.  Well, the second time anyway.  His eyes would shift slightly to look at you.  When I saw the blood, I knew he had to die.  But we don’t really know who he worked for.  It was a risk, more of a risk to you I’m afraid and I’m sorry.  I just had to know for sure.”

“Why would he aim a spell at me and not you?”

“I think he knew about us.  Maybe hurt you first, let me feel the pain he did, then me if there was time.  It doesn’t matter now.  I’ll write a letter to Brandon tomorrow, tell him of the crimes Emeric has been convicted and sentenced for, ask him what he wants done with his body.”  She looks down at corpse of the man who used to her beloved brother.  This will hurt more later,she is sure of that, but it hasn’t hit her yet.  She bends down and removes the ring from his ring.  He didn’t deserve to wear it anymore, even in death.  She straightens and places the ring in a pouch on her belt.  She turns to him and smiles softly.  “For now, I want to celebrate the good news of today.  The Breach is closed.  And there’s a party waiting for us.”  She takes his hand and knocks on the cell door.  The guard looks behind them at the dead prisoner and back.  “Just… have someone clean it up later.  You’re missing that party soldier.  Go!  Have fun!  We’ve earned it.”

He salutes her, “Thank you, Herald.”  He runs off.  Cullen smiles at her.

“What?”

“I have no idea how you are so calm about…”

“Priorities.  We have a celebration to attend.  And then an escape to make.  Do you have our plans, Commander?”

“Indeed I do, Herald.”  The party is still full swing when they walk into the night.  People are dancing and laughing.  Drunk people are everywhere.  Flissa walks by them and hands them mugs of ale.

“To sealing the Breach.”

He smiles, “To the Herald of Andraste.”  They hit there mugs together and down them.  Someone hands them another one.  Varric comes up to her and tosses a pouch at her.  She catches it and it clinks.  “It’s was 20, right?”

“Wait.  Seriously?  Details, dwarf.”

She, Cullen, and Varric sit next of fire and he tells of how a drunk Tevinter mage managed, to not only touch Varric’s chest hair, but that Varric let him do it.  Shea holds her side as she laughs, Cullen laughing hard right beside her.  Varric chuckles, “Well, now it’s Curly’s turn to tell a story.  Particularly who marked him?”

Cullen rubs his neck and Shea doubles over laughing again.  “Oh, that’s an easy one.  I bit him.”

“Now, why on earth would you do that?”

She stands up drink in hand, “Gather round, one and all!  This is the story of how the Herald of Andraste beat the Commander of the Inquisition in a battle of strength.”  Dorian, Bull, and Sera come running.  More like quickly stumbling.  Cassandra comes over to.  Cullen, having no idea, what she is about to say, hides behind this cup. Shea clears her throat.

“It was peaceful, sunny afternoon.  The Breach glowed over head.”  People boo loudly. “The Herald of Andraste had just returned freeing the mages of Redcliffe from clutches of an evil Venatori plot.”  People cheer.  “Not to be out done, our illustrious Commander challenged The Herald to a test of arms.  Never one to back away from a challenge, The Herald bravely agreed knowing that he was stronger than she, but she had speed on her side.  They met on the field axe against sword.  They exchange blows, spinning left and right.  Neither one able to best the other.  They locked weapons and circled.  But the Commander dropped his shield in the melee, leaving himself exposed.”  Gasps and oh’s arouse from the crowd.  “Using the only weapon left to her disposal, the Herald barred her teeth, biting the Commander’s throat.  He dropped his sword in pain.  And as the Herald pointed her axe at his face, The Commander declared her the victor.”  Cheers and applause irrupts as she sits back down.

Cullen leans his shoulder against hers.  “You know they’re going to spread that around?”

She smiles at him, “At least, I didn’t tell them the truth.”

He smirks, “I might have preferred that.”

Warning bells echo through the valley. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we all know what's coming...
> 
> UPDATED July 21, 2018


	23. Landslide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun...

Cullen is the first to move.  He rushes forward.  “To arms!” 

Shea stands and quickly looks around.  “ _So much for a moment’s peace.  Who’s not drunk?  Sera, Bull, Dorian, and Varric are out.  Cassandra is good.  Solas is good.  I don’t see Vivienne.  Blackwall?”_ She looks to him, he nods. “ _Blackwall is good… moderately.”_

Cassandra pulls her sword, “To the gates?”

Shea nods, “Cassandra, Solas, and Blackwall with me.  The rest of you get the villagers to safety.”  They all move to action.  Shea’s group rushes to meet Cullen at the gates.

“Cullen?”

“There’s massive force coming from the mountains.”

Josephine and Leliana are standing next to him, “Under what banner?”

He shakes his, “None.”

“None?!  How can it be…?”

A flash of light hits the gate.  A man’s voice calls out, “I can’t come in unless you open.”  Without asking anyone Shea rushes the gates to let him in.  A hulking Venatori with an axe slowly approaches.  Two swords appear in his chest and when they are pulled out he falls.  A strange looking young man in a huge hat stands in his place.

“I’m Cole.  I came to warn you.  To help.  They come to hurt you.  The templars come to kill you.”

Cullen steps in front of her, “Templars?!”  Cole jumps back.  “Is this their response for us going to the mages?”

Shea can see that Cullen is frightening the boy and steps around him.  “Cole?  What’s going on?”

“The Red Templars went to the Elder One.  Do you know him?  He knows you.  You took his mages.  There.”  Cole points up the mountain.  A man, a creature Shea couldn’t even begin to describe is standing at the top of the valley’s opening.  He is tainted, evil, and monstrous.  Next to him is weaselly looking man.  “He is very angry you took his mages.”

Shea looks to Cullen, “Give me a plan.  Anything.”

“Haven is no fortress.  If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle.  Get out there and hit that force,” he points to a trebuchet, “with everything you can.”  Shea nods.  Cullen turns to the crowd behind him and draws his sword.  “Mages!  You have permission to engage them!  That is Samson out there and he will not make it easy.  Inquisition!  With the Herald!  For your lives!  For all of us!”  He raises his sword above his head and they cheer.  Before running off, Shea and Cullen exchange looks. Then they run in separate directions.

Red templars are like regular templars only way stronger, way bigger, and way grosser.  Shea and her friends cut through them and fire the first trebuchet.  It kills a bunch of them, but they keep coming.  Shea turns to her small group.  “I have an idea but we need to get to that other trebuchet.” 

A solider yells, “It isn’t firing!”

“Then we’ll fix it.  Move people!”  The rush over to it.  Blackwell tells her to turn the gear and he works on the chain.  Once ready, she tells them to aim it at the mountain.  When that’s done, they fire causing an avalanche that covers the enemy.  The troops around her cheer.  Things are looking up.  Just then a grotesque black dragon swoops out the sky.  They jump back just as the dragon shoots a ball of red lighting, exploding the trebuchet.  “We need to get back to the gates!”

Everyone is running like mad.  Shea sees Harritt trying to get into his house, she pulls out her axe and charges the door busting it open.  “Thank you, Herald.”

“Just hurry alright!  You can thank me if we live through this!”

Cullen is standing at the gate, holding it open, yelling for people to move faster.  “We need to get everyone back to the Chantry!  It’s the only place that might hold against… that beast.”  They make eye contact again.  “At this point, just make them work for it.”  He runs toward the Chantry leaving her and the others at the gate.  The dragon keeps making fly overs setting buildings on fire.  As they run they hear cries for help.  “Fan out!  Save everyone you can!  But hurry!”

Cassandra runs left and hears Seggrit screaming.  She kicks in the door and saves him.  Lysette, the templar is surrounded, Blackwall helps her.  Solas runs into the burning tavern forming a barrier around him.  Flissa is trapped.  He extends the barrier around her and shoots lightning at the beam pinning her to free her.  Shea dodges a burst from the dragon that sets Adan’s house on fire.  The blast knocks him and Minaeve down near some pots.  “Hurry!  Those will explode!”  Shea rushes in and helps up Adan.  Leaping over the pots and gets Minaeve out of the way just in time.  As they run toward the Chantry they hear another cry for help, Threnn the quartermaster is surrounded.  They make quick work out of them and escape into the Chantry.

Shea is surprised to see Chancellor Roderick waving people in.  He looks wounded.  She can’t even remember the last time she saw him.  As Roderick tries to close the door, he collapses.  Cole catches him.  For someone so thin, he is very strong.  “He tried to stop a red templar.  The blade went deep.  He’s going to die.”

Roderick grumbles next to him, “What a charming boy.”  Cole helps Roderick sit and lean against a pillar. 

Cullen rushes up her.  “Sh… Herald.  Our position is not good.  That dragon stole back anytime you might have earned us.”

Cole sits and looks over at them, “I’ve seen an archdemon.  I was in the Fade, but it looked like that.”

He inhaled sharply. _An archdemon?  Maker’s breath._   Cullen looks over at Cole, “I don’t care what it looks like.  It’s cut a path for that army.  They’ll kill _everyone_ in Haven.”

“The Elder One doesn’t care about the village.  He only wants the Herald!”

Shea looks at the floor, then over to Cole.  “If it will save these people,” She looks over to Cullen, “he can have me.”

“It won’t.    He wants to kill you.  No one else matters, but he’ll crush them. Kill them anyway.  I don’t like him.”

Cullen scoffs, “You don’t like…” he turns to face Shea.  Pain in his eyes. “Herald.  There are no tactics to make this survivable.  The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche.”  He steps closer to her.  “We could turn the remaining trebuchet.  Cause one last slide.”

Shea steps in, “We’re over run. To hit the enemy, we’d bury Haven.”

He holds her eye contact, “We’re dying.  But we can decide how.”  He lowers his voice to a whisper, “Many don’t get that choice.”  Her heart hurts.  She doesn’t care that she might die.  She doesn’t even care that the villagers might die.  She cares that he might die.  Even if they’d die together, she would know that the man she loves has died.  She feels tears threaten to spill over her eyes.  She can see in his eyes that he feels the same way.  She can see his eyes welling up and it hurts her soul.

Roderick weakly looks over at Cole.  Cole looks towards the back of the Chantry.  “Yes.  That.  Chancellor Roderick can help.  He wants to say it before he dies.”

Roderick looks over at Shea.  Cole’s voice, breaks the hold their eyes have on each other, and she turns to face him.  “There is a path.  You wouldn’t know it unless you’ve made the summer pilgrimage, as I have.  The people _can_ escape.”  He stands holding his side.  “She must have shown me.  Andraste must have shown me, so I… I could tell you.”

Shea’s opinion of this man suddenly shifts.  Though his voice is filled with pain and he is at death’s door, he is still trying to help.  It puts everything from before into perspective.  Roderick only hated her, because there was no one else to hate for what happened at the conclave.  She could understand that now, after everything she’s been through.  So when she speaks, her voice is kind, “What are you on about, Roderick?”

“It was whim that I walked the path.  I did not mean to start, it was overgrown.  Now, with so many at the conclave dead, to be the only one that remembers… I… I don’t know.  If this simple memory can save us, this could be more than mere accident.  _You_ could be more.”

He believes.  After all this time, he finally relents.  She can hear it.  She looks at Cullen.  There is a glimmer of hope in his eyes.  “What about it, Cullen?  Will it work?”

“Possibly.  If he shows us the path.  But what of your escape?”  She can’t look at him.  She knows what she has to do.  She doesn’t want to see the hurt in his eyes.  The hurt she is feeling know that she is about to cause him pain.  She looks toward the door and doesn’t say a word.  She has no words.  “Perhaps you will surprise it.  Find a way.”  A single tear breaks from her eye.  She quickly brushes it away.  He clears his throat and turns to the crowd of soldiers gathered by the war room.  “Inquisition.  Follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry.  Move.”  They all salute and go to work.  Gathering the injured and encouraging villagers to stand and follow.

Cole reaches over and wraps Roderick’s arm around his neck, supporting him has he goes to walk.  Roderick stops and lifts his hand to touch Shea on the shoulder.  “Herald.  If you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this, I pray for you.” Cole escorts him towards the back of the Chantry. 

A handful of soldiers run past her, readying themselves at the door.  “They’ll load the trebuchet. Keep the Elder One’s attention until we are above the tree line.”  She nods, still not looking at him. She starts to walk and he grabs her arm. 

He needs to see her face.  If this is going to be their last moment, he needs her to look at him.  He wants to memorize her face so that when he thinks of her he can picture every perfect line.  He wants to be able to see her eyes looking back at him.  He needs her to stay, but knows she won’t.  He knows this is hard for her.  So he must stay strong.  He’s been holding it together this long, but if she doesn’t look at him right now, he’ll have to go with her.

She steels herself before turning around.  She slowly lifts her eyes to meet his.  There’s a fire behind them, some determination.  She doesn’t know what he is determined to do, but his warm, honey eyes are burning into hers.  Somehow giving her the courage to charge ahead to face a monster of unknown origin.  To sacrifice herself knowing that the people of Haven, her friends, and he would all be alive because of it.  “If we are to have a chance… if _you_ are to have a chance… let that _thing_ hear you.”

His voice is strong, but layered with emotion.  Anger, sorrow, love.  It makes him sound intimidating.  He has purpose behind those words.  A conviction that would shake the foundations of any hardened warrior.  With his eyes, she feels as if he is passing that energy to her.  She touches his hand briefly as it grips her arm.  He let his hand fall, backing away, before turning to join his men.  Cassandra, Solas, and Blackwall come up then from somewhere in the back of the Chantry.

“We’re with you.”

She moves to stand in front of her friends and the handful of soldiers.  She takes the axe from her back and holds it to her side.  The mark flares sending sparks into the air.  “As soon as the trebuchet is ready, you all need to run like hell.  As fast as your legs can carry you.  You know where the path is now.  Take it!  I don’t want to hear _any_ arguments about me staying behind.  This is between me and it now.  Enough people have died today!  I will not let that _thing_ take anymore from us!  Haven is lost, but the Inquisition will live on.”  She turns to face the door.  “Let’s do this!”

The soldiers rush forward opening the door.  Haven is swarming. Shea points to one soldier.  “Man the door.  Bar it.  When you see a bright white light and hear 3 knocks, open it fast.  Then go for the path.”

“Yes, ser.”  He pulls the door closed and they hear the wooden beam drop into place.

“Solas.  Remember the signal.”  She raises her axe and charges into the fray.  Hacking and slashing down any red templar in her way.  If they look hostile, they are dead.  The fight buys the villagers time.  Shea and her companions fend off waves of enemies, guarding the men loading the trebuchet.  As if things couldn’t get worst, a gigantic beast made of red lyrium comes crashing through the tall wooden walls.  One hit sends Blackwall flying back.  “Blackwall!”  Shea charges it, dodging its slow heavy swings.  It drives a barrier of solid red lyrium behind her, blocking any escape and any aid.  It takes lot of work, but she manages to down it. 

“Herald, it’s ready!” 

A loud roar is heard from above them.  “Move!  Now!”  The soldiers and her friends flee the field.  She hopes she can stall long enough for them to get clear.  A blast of red electric fire explodes in front of her, blowing her back and throwing her to the ground.  She presses her hand to the back of her head, feeling warm moisture.  She reaches for her axe, but it isn’t beside her.  _Shit!_

She sits up and looks over to see a dark figure emerge from the flames.  As her vision clears, she can see that it is the horrible creature she saw on the hill.  Ignoring the pain in her head, she stands to face him.  Her hands balled into fists.  He stops a few yards away, but still he looms over her.  The ground shakes and she looks behind her.  The dragon has landed.  It stalks towards her and roars into her face.  His deep voice rings out, “Enough!”  He casts some kind of magic past her and the dragon backs down.  She spins around.  He is clearly some sort of intelligent darkspawn.  Ancient and huge.  He lowers his head, glaring at her, “Pretender.  You toy with forces beyond your ken, no more.”  She doesn’t know what to say to make him keep talking.  Maybe asking it questions?

“What are you?  Why are you doing this?”

“Mortals beg for truth they cannot have.  It is beyond what you are.  What I was.  Know me.  Know what you have pretended to be.  Exalt the Elder One.  The will that is Corypheus.”  He raises his long sharp finger and points to her.  “You _will_ kneel.”

She glares at him.  “You’ll get _nothing_ out of me!”

“You will resist.  You will always resist.”  He raises on orb is his hand.  “It matters not.  I am here for the Anchor.”  The orb sparks to life, red lighting engulfing it like fire.  “The process of removing it, begins _now_.”  He quickly raises his other hand shooting red sparks at her.  It connects with the mark and forces her hand open in front her.  His palm mirrors hers.  A red line crosses it.  She grabs her wrist trying to fight the pull.  The pain burns up her arm and she grinds her teeth together.  “It is your fault, Herald.  You interrupted a ritual years in the planning.  And instead of dying, you stole its purpose.”  He forces more energy into her mark and turns his hand upward.  She tries to fight it but her hand copies his.  The pain intensifying.  She squeezes her eyes closed for a moment before glaring at him again.  “I do not know how you survived.  But what marks you as touched, what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens.”  He squeezes his fist closed.  Red mixes with green as her mark sparks wildly.  The pain is too much to bear and she falls to her knees.  She cries out in pain, her fist still raised to him. The dragon circles behind her.  “And you used the Anchor to undo my work.  The gall.”

 _Breathe, Shea.  Just keep him talking a little longer._   She looks up at him, hatred in her eyes.  “What is this thing meant to do?!”

“It is meant to bring certainty where there is none.  For you, the certainty that I would always come for it.”  He walks towards her.  He grabs her by the arm of her marked hand and lifts her into the air.  Her feet are at least two feet off the ground.  He raises her to eye level.  “I once breached the Fade in the name of another.  To serve the Old Gods and the Empire in person.  I found only chaos and corruption.  Dead whispers.  For a thousand years, I was confused.  No more.  I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own.  To champion with it Tevinter and correct the blighted world.  Beg that I succeed.  For I have seen the throne of the Gods, and it was empty.”  He throws her at the trebuchet.  She cries out as her back hits it and she falls to the ground.  “The Anchor is permanent.  You have spoiled it with your stumbling.”  She looks down.  Lying next to her is her axe.  _Hello, beautiful._  She lunges for it, picks it up, and stands.  She leans back against the trebuchet as Corypheus advances, his dragon at his side.  “So be it.  I will begin again.  Find another way to give this world the nation and _God_ it requires.”  Movement above his head catches her attention.  Coming for high in the mountains, a flaming arrow lights the sky.  That is her cue.  She feels the jaws of death close around her.  This is it.  Everyone is safe.  Job done.  “And you?  I will not suffer even an unknowing rival.  You must die.”  She snarls and raises her axe with both of her hands.  Aiming it at him.  She sees the trebuchet release right next to her and just beyond that a missing blank in the boards.  She doesn’t know where it leads.  But maybe, just maybe, she could make her escape.  It is worth a shot.  She smirks.  The setup has played out perfectly.

“Your arrogance blinds you.  Good to know.  If I’m dying, it’s not today.”  She quickly turns and kicks the release.  The trebuchet fires.  The three of them, Shea, Corypheus, and the dragon watch as the rock shatters against the mountain.  Triggering a massive avalanche.  Taking advantage of his distraction, she runs for the opening.  They turn at her movement.  The dragon roars.  She doesn’t look back.  The avalanche speeds down towards Haven.  The dragon wraps its wings around Corypheus, who vanishes, as the dragon takes flight.

She can hear the wave of rock and ice baring down on her.  She hears the trebuchet shatter as the force makes contact.  She’s almost there.  She pushes herself to run faster.  She gets to the end of the platform and jumps.  Her side smacks into the lip of the opening.  Beams crisscross below her.  She raises her hands to block her face.  The first beam knocks her hands away.  The second make contacts contact with her left temple, knocking her unconscious.  As the avalanche seals the hole, her lifeless body bounces down the shaft until finally making a hard impact on the cavern floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coryphispit ruins everything!!
> 
> UPDATED July 21, 2018


	24. The Man Who Can't Be Moved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get your tissues ready.
> 
> *** time/pov shift

Cullen stands next an archer.  Behind him are the survivors.  He stands with his arms crossed waiting for the others to arrive.  He watches from high above, as the woman he loves squares off with a monster.  Though he is far away, he can tell she is trying to be strong.  A chill runs up his spine as whatever magic he is using on her makes her cry out and fall.  The sound echoes through the valley.  Everyone who watches, stares in stunned silence.  If he were to listen to anything else, he’d hear gasps and whimpering.  But that echoed scream makes his heart shatter and his ears go deaf.

The soldiers emerge from the path first.  Panting from their run up the mountain.  Not far behind are Solas, Blackwall, and Cassandra.  She stands next to him.  They watch her get thrown into the trebuchet.  She is facing where they stand.  Cullen squeezes his eyes closed, stopping the flow of tears threatening to spill over.  He opens to take one final look at her.  Then whispers the command, “Fire.”  The archer lights his arrow and shots it into the air.

He sees her see it.  She raises her axe to the monster.  Then kicks the lever.  The impact shakes the ground.  Ice and rock barrel down the mountain, cutting off his view of her.  The dragon flees.  They watch as the avalanche swallows Haven and its hero.  Pain rips through his chest.  He chokes down the noise bubbling in his throat.  Cassandra reaches out to touch his arm and he pulls away. He turns to face the crowd.  “Let’s move.”  The crowd parts as he and Cassandra walk through the narrow pass.  They don’t know where they are going, but they need to distance themselves from Haven.  Who knows when or if the dragon will come find them?

***

Shea groans.  Her face is pressed against the cold hard ground.  She goes to push herself up, but cries out in pain, collapsing back to the ground.  Her whole body is in pain.  Her head throbs and it hurts to breathe.  She gathers herself.  She cries out again as her pushes herself onto her knees.  She wraps her arm around her ribs.  The mark glows and pulses.  Her axe is on the ground beside her.  She hisses as she picks it up.  She places it on her back.

Tears are streaming down her face.  This is the worst pain she has ever left.  She points her glowing mark above her and she looks up.  The mark doesn’t provide much light, but it’s all she has.  She can’t see the top of the cavern.  It’s pitch black above her.  She sighs then winces as her ribs protest.  Her breathing is shallow.  She looks down at herself.  Her breastplate is dented inward over where her ribs hurt the worst.  Several of them are broken, she is certain of that.  She runs her glove gently across her stomach.  When she looks at her gloved hand, there is blood on it.  _Great and I’m bleeding._   She uses the dull light from her mark to examine the parts she can look at without causing too much pain.

She has a large gash on her upper right arm.  _More bleeding._ There is a wound on her mid-thigh.  As she looks down her leg, she sees a pool of blood on the floor.  _Maker.  That’s a lot.  How am I still alive?  Am I still alive?  If not, then being dead hurts a lot._ She makes the choice to stop trying to see where she is hurt or bleeding.  She doesn’t have anything to help anyway.  She almost wishes she was a mage so she could heal herself.

For the first time since executing her brother, she felt the sting in her heart.  She had loved him.  They were so close.  Yet he finds out his mother is a Tevinter mage, who is a member of the Venatori, and turns on her in a blink.  Maybe he resented her and Brandon their whole lives.  She encouraged him to pursue Moira.  Elves are slaves in Tevinter.  What would have happened to her?  What has happened to her?

Her stomach lurches.  She falls on her better side and gasps for air.  She feels like she is actively being stabbed.  She lets her head slump against the ground.  A fresh wave of warmth spread out beneath her.  She doesn’t want to die here.  Alone.  In the dark.  She feels an ice cold wind brush against her face.

 _Wait. Wind! That means an exit!_   She forces herself to move.  She screams in pain.  Every part of her hurts.  _Just… focus… push through it._   Her vision is blurred by her pain or a possible head injury.  She thinks it is likely both.  She pushes herself on to her hands and knees.  Pausing as pain tries to keep her down.  _I will not die here!_

She screams it out loud, “I will not die here!”  She pulls one knee up placing her foot on the ground.  She screams in pain and rage.  She pulls the other knee up to place her foot on the ground.  “I. Will.  Not.  Die.  Here.”  She slowly places one hand at a time on her knees.  She growls at her pain. She feels like passing out.  “No!  Push through it!  Stand up!”

She squeezes her eyes closed.  She pants and braces herself to stand.  She shoves against her knees and stumbles forward.  She catches herself on the wall of the cavern.  Her breath coming out in short bursts.  “Ok.  You’re standing.  Now what?”

She places her palm on the wall and pushes away.  She stands, unsteady on her feet.  The wind howls at her.  Almost calling to her.  She focuses on controlling her breathing.  Her chest is tight.  She breathes in through her nose and slowly blows it out her mouth.  She does this a few times.  She takes a tentative step forward.  Then another.  “Just… keep doing that.  One foot… after another.  Ever forward.”

She feels the wind on her face.  “Just. Follow the wind.  You can do it.”  She wheezes.  She could hear and feel a fluid move in her chest.  “Oh great.”  She slowly crosses the cavern.  When she reaches a small opening, just big enough for her to walk through, she takes a break.  She leans on the wall, but doesn’t let herself sit.  She is shaky and knows that if she sits down, she won’t be able to get up again.

“Come on, Shea.  Come on.  Just get outside.  That’s it.  You can figure out the next step, if you make it.”  She pushes herself off the wall and starts walking through the opening.  A sound ahead of her makes her stop.  She closes her eyes to focus on it.  _Demons.  It had to be fucking demons.  I can’t fight like this._   _But this is the way out, so I have to._   She clinches her teeth down to prevent her from making sound.  She reaches back with one hand and unhitches her axe.  The weight is almost too much.  Her whole left side might as well be useless.  She rests the head of the axe on the ground.  She slides her right hand up the handle grabbing it about a foot from the blades.  _It’ll have to be close quarters.  I’m not even sure if this will work, but at least I’ll go down swinging._

She shuffles her feet as she wills herself forward.  She sees four demons ahead of her.  They haven’t noticed her but they soon will.  She feels her mark swell with energy.  Its light alerts the demons and they start to swarm her.  She squeezes her eyes closed and thrusts her marked hand forward.  She feels the energy release, her hand drops, and hears something pop in front of her.  She opens her eyes.  She’s opened a small rift.  Time slows around it holding the demons in place.  After a few seconds the rift begins to close again, pulling the demons into it.  The cavern goes dark as her mark’s glow almost completely dims and the rift she made seals up.

“What was that?  How did I do that?  Have I always been able to do that?”  Safe from the demons, she ventures forward.  Her arm protests as the weight of her axe becomes too much for it.  She painfully places it on her back.  She notices the closer she gets to the source of the wind, the better she feels.  “Well, it is cold.  I’m either about to die or numb.  I guess I’ll find out which.”

She finds two dead ends before finally seeing the way forward.  She exits the cave.  A blast of cold wind blows around her.   Her shivering causing more pain.  She looks around.  She has no idea where she was.  “Ok.  Think.  You fell into a hole under Haven.  I was at the front of Haven.”  She looks up at the stars.  This is the first time seeing stars near Haven.  She smiles slightly.  She closes her eyes trying to think.  She is so tried.  Her head slumps forward and she shakes it.  “No! You can’t sleep.  Sleep and you’re dead.”

With her eyes still closed, her mind drifts.  Then it occurs to her why she is fighting so hard to stay alive.  She didn’t really know before.  She expected to die when she faced Corypheus.  She is surprised she isn’t.  She isn’t entirely sure she is alive either.  But she knows one way to know for sure.  She has to find Cullen.  If she can find him, then she will know that at the very least she will live.  He is her heart.  The hope that she will see him again is what will keep her going.

She opens her eyes and pushes away from the cave.  She blocks the biting wind with her hand.  Left is down.  Right is up.  The arrow came from up high.  “Right it is.”  She digs in her heels and slowly starts climbing the mountain.

She walks for what feels like hours.  She spots a small campfire.  Cold.  The higher she goes the stronger the wind gets.  She wraps her arms around herself trying to stay warm.  The snow grows deeper.  When I gets to her knees, she falls forward.  She coughs and tastes iron in her mouth.  She growls in rage.  “I will not die here!”  She wipes the blood from her lips with the back of her glove.  She forces herself back up.  “He’s waiting for you, damn it!”  She drives her feet forward.

***

The survivors stop in a mountain pass to set up camp.  When the villagers and workers were told to flee, they grabbed anything they thought useful.  Primarily things to keep warm.  Merchants didn’t want to be left with nothing, so they are always ready to pack up and move.  They have pack animals and tents.  Even the scouts and soldiers thought to grab anything they could of their own supplies.  That isn’t to say that they aren’t still suffering, but at least they don’t have to sleep in the snow.  The wind isn’t so bad at this spot.  It will do for now.  They could stay and treat the wounded until they could figure out where the hell they are.

Cullen finds himself standing at the edge of the camp.  His mantle pulled tightly around him.  He feels like his heart has been torn from his chest.  He can’t even feel it beating.  He gave instructions on automatic.  He’d point and say something, and that person would do it.  He wasn’t even aware he was doing it.  Now that they aren’t fleeing for their lives, he finds himself staring into the distance the way they had come.  He dares not hope she survived.  If he allows himself to hope, then when she never returns, he will break completely.  No going through the motions.  No brave face for the people who look to him.  Nothing.  If she isn’t in this world, he doesn’t really want to be in it either.

She died without knowing how he felt.  He had never gotten to kiss her.  He closes his eyes.  He hates himself.  He let her go.  He sent her out to be killed.  He let his job get in the way of protecting the most important person in his life.  The most important person who would ever be in his life.  He just stood there and watched.  What kind of a man was he that he just allowed her to drop a mountain on herself?  Hell, he even gave the order.  Her signal that it was ok.  It wasn’t ok.

He roars and punches whatever is next to him as hard as he could.  He feels his knuckle crack as it makes contact.  The pain doesn’t bother him.  I isn’t the first time he’s broken a knuckle.  A couple of potions and it will be like nothing happened.  He opens his eyes to see he has punched a mountain.  He imagines it is the very mountain who murdered her.  He rears back and punches the mountain again.  Then again.  He roars, punching it one more time.  Something pops in his hand.  He lays his forehead against the rock face.  His breathing coming in short angry bursts.  Hot tears streaming down his face.

Though not many people saw him punching a mountain, they hear him.  His roars of agony and anger echoing through the pass.  A vocal expression what they are all feeling.  A few of his friend start to approach him, but when they can’t think of anything to say, they sit back down.  He stands there and cries.  He just lets go.  He falls to his knees as a sob forces its way out of his mouth.  He should have been there.  They should have died together.

Someone places a hand on the top of his head.  He doesn’t move to see who it was.  It wasn’t going to be the person wanted to see.  He’d never see that person again.  A pained sob rumbles from somewhere deep inside him but breaks apart into a whimper as it finds its way out.  He feels whomever touched his head kneel down next to him.  Cullen presses his forehead harder into the rock.  He punches the wall again and feels the inside of his glove moisten.

A gentle hand takes his fractured hand in theirs.  He doesn’t move to stop them.  He can’t.  His mind keeps going in circles intensifying his pain with every loop.  The person gently removes his glove.  They lay his bloody and broken hand in their palm and lightly runs their fingers on the back of his hand.  He feels a tingle in his hand as magic drifts over it.  It is then he turns to see who it was.

Dorian doesn’t look up at Cullen when he sees his head turn.  Just continues healing the Commander’s mangled hand.  Cullen takes a shaky breath, “You… don’t…”

“Don’t speak.  Just sit there.”  He continues to work his magic.  Cullen struggles to control himself.  He realizes now that people have heard him.  Maybe even saw him.  _You have to be strong, for them.  It’s what she would have wanted._

Cullen tries to stand, but Dorian grabs his wrist and keeps him in place.  “I’m not finished.”  Cullen sits back on his knees and watches Dorian heal his hand.  When he is done, the mage takes a handkerchief from his pocket and cleans off the blood.

Cullen heaves a sigh, “Thank you.”  Dorian puts the glove back on and pats his hand.

“No one needs to know that the strapping Tevinter mage actually helped someone.  Mustn’t let them think I’ve gone soft.”  He smiles at Cullen, but the expression is empty.  He goes to stand and Cullen grabs his wrist.  “Don’t want me to leave I take it?”

“How… how is everyone…?”  His breath catches in his throat.

“Don’t worry about them.  Be selfish for once.”  Cullen slumps forward against the rock, crying in earnest again.  “Oh dear.  I’ve said the wrong thing.”  Dorian sits in the snow with his back against the wall.

“No.  I…”

“We don’t have to speak.  I can just sit here.”

Cullen turns to rest his back against the rock face.  “I really… I shouldn’t be falling apart like this.  Not so close to…

“If it helps, only a handful of people know it’s you.  Those of us who are sharing… no that’s not the right word.  Those of us who know.”

“Know?”

“How she felt.  She doesn’t share her personal life, but on the road, it’s not easy to hide.  There are those who suspect, but think it nothing more than a way to pass the time.  But we know better.”

Cullen wipes his nose on his glove.  “Who?”

“Cassandra, Varric, Bull, Leliana, and myself.  Some you’ve confided in, some that she has.  No one had the balls to come over here.  Thought you’d want to be alone with your sorrow.  I know better.”

“You hardly know me.”

“True.  But I feel like I do.  She speaks of you often.  In hushed whispers, of course.  You give her strength when she doesn’t feel like she has any left.”

“She said that?”

“Among other things, yes.”

Cullen sighs, “I never told her… how…”

“I think she knows.”

“Knows?  You don’t think…?”

Dorian laughs, “As she says quite often, she’s not that easy to kill.  Maybe I’m blinding myself, maybe not.”

Cullen closes his eyes and leans his head back, “I can’t allow myself to have that kind of hope.  My guilt is painful enough.”

“Guilt?  What could you possibly have to feel guilty for?”

“I… I let her go.  I gave the signal.  It was my idea to drop a mountain on Haven.  On… her.”

Dorian laughs.  “My dear Commander.  Do you honestly think she would have let you stop her?  She has never done anything for personal gain, if it came down to her being hurt or someone she cared about, she’d pick her every time.  I can imagine if you had moved to stop her, we would have had to carry you up the mountain.  The destination stays the same.”

“That does sound like something she would do.  It just…”

Dorian pats Cullen’s knee, “I know.  Bottling it up won’t help.  Personally, I think what you’re doing here is going to help in the long room.”

“Breaking my hand and crying like an infant is going to help?”

“Emotional wounds fester if not properly tended.  Much like joy and anger, sorrow seeks release.  Our bodies crave it.  If you didn’t release this, let the emotion take hold and run its course, it stays with you.  You suffer and have to constantly lock yourself down.  It cuts you off, isolates you from everything and everyone.  Once it’s free, you’re open to feel other things.  You’ll think back on the cause and it doesn’t hurt as much.  It takes time, but you have to allow yourself to have that time.”

“Forgetting entirely almost seems better.”

“Do you want to forget her?”

“No.  Never that.” He sighs, “I shouldn’t wallow while people need help.  Need a commander.  She wouldn’t want me to abandon them like this.”

“She wouldn’t want you blame yourself either.  If you feel you must compose yourself and continue working, then go right ahead, but you need to set time aside for yourself.  For instance, take the next few hours.  Everyone is in their own little world trying to process and grieve.  You should do the same.”

“Thank you.”

“If you want to keep punching that mountain, I’ll be right over there.” Dorian stands and leaves Cullen sitting in the snow.  He will take Dorian up on his advice later.  Once he gets everyone safe and secure, he’ll go off somewhere, far away from prying eyes, and let everything out.  Until then, he must be The Commander and not Cullen.  He focuses on that, trying to shut everything else away.  Eventually he stands and dusts the snow off himself.  He makes sure his face is clear of all signs of crying.  Once he feels like he can at least act the part, he heads into the camp.

***

Some hours have passed and almost everyone is asleep.  Cullen has set up a guard rotation at the entry points of the pass.  To give his men some much need rest, he has taken up a watch with Cassandra.  It is taking a lot of effort to hold in his pain, but the mask is in place.  They don’t talk.   Cassandra can’t think of anything to say to him.  Hearing him cry out like a wounded animal and not being able to do anything to help him makes her angry.  The silence is deafening.  He can hear his heartbeat, but he can’t feel it.  His thoughts continue to plague him.

“Could you please say something?  Anything.”

Cassandra glances at him, “I am… unsure of what to say.”

“I don’t care what you say, but I can’t take the silence anymore.”

She sighs, “I fear that anything I might say will not help matters.”

“You think whatever you have to say is worse than the things I’m saying to myself?”

“I…no.  Probably not.  But I do think you are being too hard on yourself.”

He shakes his head, “I disagree.”

She turns to face him, “We all feel this loss.  We all failed…”  He looks over at her.  “It shouldn’t have been like this.  It didn’t have to be her.  I should have… it should have been…”

“Now who’s being hard on themselves?  That thing didn’t want anyone else, but was willing to wipe us all out just to…”

“That thing will die for this.  I will hunt it until my dying breathe.  I heard it speaking as I ran away, like a frightened child.  He killed the Most Holy.  It was his voice we heard at the temple.  He started all of this.  We will have vengeance.”

“It won’t bring back what I… what we’ve lost.  You are right.  We will find a way to… destroy this monster.”

Cassandra head turns abruptly.  “Did you hear something?”

“No.”  She steps forward hand on her sword.  They are quiet.  The silence drags on what seems like minutes.  Then the snow crunches.  “What was that?”  He rushes forward.  His heart leaps out of his chest.  There kneeling in the snow, head lulling to the side, covered in blood, is Shea.  “There!  It’s her!”   He runs to her.  Cassandra right behind him. 

When she sees her, she cries out, “Thank the Maker!”

As Cullen drops next to her, Shea falls over.  He wraps one arm around her shoulders and places the other on her hip to support her.  Her head slumps back against his arm.  Her eyes are closed, her breathing labored.  She slowly goes limp in his arms.  _No!  She can’t die now!_

Shea is screaming inside her head.  She made it.  He’s here.  She can die happy having seen him again.  But she fights it.  The pull of the darkness that has been tracking her through the mountains.  It has finally caught her and is trying to swallow her whole.  _I will not die.  I will not die._

She shakes in his grasp as the cold travels through her.  He feels her hand move between them.  She brings it to rest on his forearm.  He stares at her near lifeless face.  A tiny smile pulls at her lip.  In a voice full of pain, so soft that even the faintest wind could blow it away, but to him it’s so loud she may as well have been shouting, “I.  Knew.  I’d.  Find.  You.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone cry? I cried when I wrote this whole chapter. I'm gunna go crawl under a rock for a while.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave comments!
> 
> UPDATED July 21, 2018  
> Note: Ugly crying while editing is hard


	25. What Hurts The Most

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift

The darkness envelops her.  Her body goes completely limp in his arms.  He presses his ear against her lips.  A small puff of air escapes her.  And then another.  He gently scoops her up.  He almost falls as the snow wraps around his legs.  Cassandra braces him.  She keeps him steady as he drags his feet through the snow.

As he carries her into camp, a shout rings out, “It’s the Herald!”  “Maker be praised!”  Every head snaps in his direction.  Dorian is the first to meet them with Solas on his heels.  “Mother Giselle is this way!  Quickly!”

Two large tents have been set up in the center of the camp.  One is full of wounded men and women.  In the other tent, Chancellor Roderick takes staggered breaths on his cot, Cole sitting next to him.  Giselle, the mother they met at the Crossroads so long ago, stands at the opening of this tent.  It is no more than a large stretch of fabric secured to cut down trees.  Cassandra pulls a cot to the very center of the tent and shoves the other empty ones away.  Cullen sets her down gently.  Her auburn hair is caked with blood, the braid hanging loose down her back.  Cassandra grabs the axe from Shea’s back so that Cullen can lay her down.

Adan comes running in.  His arms are full of plants and bottles.  He spread them out onto one of the empty cots.  Cullen studies her.  Several larges wounds are still bleeding and blood is seeping out from under her dented armor.  A crowd has gathered around the mouth of the tent.  “Cassandra.”  She sees them and orders them away.  Without being prompted, she and the rest of Shea’s companions, except Dorian and Solas, form a perimeter arcing in front of the tent.  Their backs are to it and they keep everyone far enough away that they can’t see in.

Cullen is afraid to remove her armor.  If the wound beneath it is being plugged by it, removing it could cause her to bleed out.  She’s lost so much blood already.  Before attempting, because he knows it has to happen eventually, he starts removing the other pieces.  Dorian drops to his knees to help him.  As they ready to remove the chest piece, Solas moves to stand by her head.  He raises his hands palms down, eyes closed in his focus.  He lets his magic flow down to her.  “You can remove it.  I’m holding the wound closed.”  They work quickly, stripping her down to her small clothes.  Cullen sees the halla hanging from her neck.  He removes it and place it in his pocket for safe keeping.

As Mother Giselle and Adan wash the blood away, Dorian and Solas use their magic to heal what they can.  Ignoring the itch in his brain, he grabs vials of lyrium.  He pulls the cork from one and goes to Solas first.  “Open your mouth.”  He pours it into his mouth and tosses the empty vial aside.  He pulls the second cork and moves to Dorian.  “Open.”

Dorian chuckles and does as he’s instructed.  Cullen empties the vial into his mouth and tosses it to the ground.  As they work to save her, he kneels beside her.  He knows he’s probably in the way, but he refuses to leave her side.  He takes her limp hand between his and presses it to his forehead.  _“Maker.  Andraste.  Whomever is listening.  Please.  Don’t let her die.  Not now.”_

***

Her head is ringing.  She feels groggy.  She takes a few deep breaths.  She ribs protect, but she can do it.  She’s still in some pain, but it’s nothing she can’t handle.  She can still taste the iron in her mouth.  The ringing slowly fades and is replaced by shouting.  She doesn’t move.  _Ignore it.  Rest.  You’ve done enough for now.  Just sleep._

She listens to them loudly argue.  She can’t sleep with all this noise.  She slowly opens her eyes.  She moves slowly, testing to see how her injuries will react to movement.  Again, there is pain, but it isn’t unbearable.  She holds her side and props herself up on one elbow.  She watches her advisors yell at each other.  Mother Giselle leans over to her, “You need rest.”

She groans, “They’ve been at it for hours.  How can I rest with them yelling over there?”

“Because of you, they have that luxury.  The enemy did not follow and with time to doubt, we turn to blame.  Infighting might may threaten as much as this Corypheus.”

Her blood chills at his name.  “Do we know where he and his forces are?”

Giselle sighs, “We are not sure where _we_ are.  Which is probably why, in spite of the numbers he still commands, there is no sign of him.  That or you are believed dead.  Or without Haven, we are thought helpless.  Or he prepares for another attack.  I cannot claim to know the mind of that _creature_.  Only his effect on us.”

Shea shakes her head.  This will teach her not to be optimistic.  They all let their guards down.  Allowed themselves to celebrate when dangers lurked behind every corner.  She allowed herself to be blindsided.  The signs were there.  Maybe not that some ancient Tevinter darkspawn would come and try to kill her and everyone else, but she knew she had enemies, powerful ones.  Yet she allowed herself to relax.  That mistake almost killed her.  She wouldn’t let it happen again.  “If they are planning what to do next, I should be there.”

“Another heated voice won’t help.  Even yours.  Perhaps especially yours.  Our leaders struggle because of what we survivors witnessed.  We saw our defender stand and fall.  And now, we have seen her return.”

Shea winces as she sits up on the cot and hangs her feet over the side.  The more she moves the more pain she notices.  She looks down at herself, _her_ armor is gone, replaced by a borrowed set of thick leather.  She is back to having nothing.  She hopes Harritt has survived and she hopes he can mend or replace it.  She thinks it is a silly thought to have at a time like this, especially with Mother Giselle explaining how the survivors now feel.

“The more the enemy is beyond us the more miraculous your actions appear.  And the more our trails seem ordained.  That is hard to accept, no?  What _we_ have been called to endure.  What we perhaps must come to believe.”

She is saying that those who didn’t believe she was the Herald now believe and those who already did believe more strongly than ever.  It scares her to think that people are starting to rise her to such heights.  She worries that they will force her ascent, make her equal to Andraste.  She doesn’t want that.  She is just a girl from the Free Marches doing the best she can with the crap that has been dumped on her.  “I escaped the avalanche, barely, but I did not die.”

“Of course.  And the dead cannot return from across the Veil.  But the people know what they saw.  Or perhaps what they needed to see.  The Maker works both in the moment and in how it is remembered.  Can we truly know the heavens are not with us?”

“You saw him.  What do you think of his claims?”

“Scripture says Magisters, Tevinter servants of false Old Gods, entered the Fade to reach the Golden City, seat of the Maker.  For their crime, they were cast out as darkspawn.  _Their_ hubris is why we suffer Blight and why the Maker turned from us.  If such is the claim of this Corypheus, he is a monster beyond imagining.  All mankind continues to suffer for that sin.  If even a shred of it is true, all the more reason for Andraste to choose someone to rise against him.”

Shea looks down at her marked hand.  Running her finger along it.  His words echo in her head.  It wasn’t Andraste, it was him.  A spell gone wrong.  An interrupted ritual.  “I’m not sure what to believe anymore.  All I know for certain is that Corypheus is a threat.  A threat that must be defeated, at any cost.” She pushes off the cot and walks away.

The weight of everything that has happened, or everything that could happen, begin to pull her down.  She crosses her arms and closes her eyes.  It’s quiet now.  No one is yelling.  She begins to lose herself in her despair.  It is then that Mother Giselle starts to sing.  A Chantry hymn.  A song Shea knows well.  It’s supposed to inspire strength, but it reminds her of a simpler time.  A time when she had a family who loved her.  When she was blind to the horrors of the world.

When a voice adds to Mother Giselle, she opens her eyes and looks around.  Leliana is singing.  She’s never heard the bard sing.  Then soldiers join.  Then villagers.  The people of Haven are walking towards her, singing this song.  Her eyes find Cullen.  He makes eye contact for a moment then closes his eyes.  He adds his voice to the crowd.  Her seeing him singing, his faith not lost, pulls at her heart.  If he still believes… Someone kneels in front of her, interrupting the thought.

Slowly people kneel before her.  Soldiers salute with their arm across their chests, their heads bowed.  Are they… worshipping her right now?  Her arms fall limply to her sides.  This is the first time being the Herald of Andraste felt like more than a title.  It makes her very uncomfortable.

The songs ends and Mother Giselle moves next to her, “Your faith may be shaken, but theirs is stronger than ever.”  Then she walks away.  As if she doesn’t have enough to deal with.  Now she being worshipped?  It makes her feel no better than Corypheus.

Solas walks up to her, “A word?”  She goes with him without hesitation.  She needs to be away from all those eyes.  Too many eyes.

He lights a fire of blue flame and warms his hands.  He explains that the orb Corypheus carried is elven.  He worries what people will think if they find out.  She promises to not let that fact blind them, it wasn’t the elves who used it.  He tells her that he knows of a place that can hold the Inquisition, it stands vacant and ready.  He tells her to head north, she can’t miss it.

So, she gathers the advisors.  “I think we should move.  At first light.  The road ahead will be difficult, but Solas says he knows of a place we can go.”

“Where is this place?”

“All he said was go north.  We can’t miss it.  I trust him.  I’m sure he found it in the Fade or something.  Maybe we can fortify it.  Rebuild.  We have to do something.  We can’t live in this mountain pass forever.”

Cullen nods, “If there’s even a slight chance, we should take it.  Sitting here with our tails between our legs is only helping Corypheus.”

“Then it’s settled.  Let the people know.  We leave at dawn.”   She needs to sit.  Her side, head, and legs ache.  Cullen brushes the back of her hand as he passes.  She has to stop herself for running to him.  Instead she just follows him.

He enters a small tent and holds the flap open for her to walk through.  She passes him and stands in the center of the tent, her arms are crossed across her chest, her back to him.  He ties the flap closed and slowly walks up behind her.  He runs a hand across her shoulders, moving her braid in front of her.  He slides his arms gently around her waist.  He bends his head and rests his nose against the crook of her neck.  She feels him take a deep and shaky breath.  “I thought I’d lost you.”

She spins in her arms.  She touches his face and runs her thumb down his scar.  She stares into his eyes.  A small smile pulls at the corner of her lip.  “I’m not that easy to kill.”  He pulls her tight against his chest.  Hugging her tightly.  She groans in pain but hugs him back.  He goes to pull away at the sound of her pain, but she tightens her grasp on him, “Don’t you dare.”

“You’re in pain.”

She presses her face against his cold armor, causing her to wince.  “I don’t care.”

He lifts her chin to look at him, “But I do.”  He moves her arms from around him and turns to light a small brazier.  It provides a soft light and helps warm the area.  He goes over to a wooden box in the corner and opens it.  “It’s too cold for our usual attire, and all of that was lost when… but the villagers haven’t been idle.”  He pulls some clothes from the box.  “They are simple, but should work.”  He sits her down on the cot.  She watches him change out of his armor.  He has a few deep purple bruises on his back.  He hears her sharply inhale as he pulls the shirt over his head.  “What?  Are you alright?”

“You were hit?”

“A few times, but nothing major.  They look worse than they are.  They don’t even hurt.”  He can see the concern in her eyes, “Shea.  I’m serious.  They don’t hurt.  Look.”  He pokes one of the bruises.  “See?  Nothing.”  He finishes changing and kneels on the ground in front of her.  She touches his face.

“It’s not the bruises.  It’s a job hazard for you.  I just get the feeling something else is going on with you.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t know.  I can’t really put my finger on it.  I just… forget it.  I’ll bring it back up when I can put a name to it.  I’m having a hard time thinking right now.”  He smirks and she runs her thumb down his scar.  He turns his head to kiss her thumb.  She sighs and then groans.

“You alright?”

“I will be.  Eventually.”  She unbuttons the leather coat.  She tries to take it off and hisses.  He stops takes her hands.

“Allow me.”

“I’m fully capable.”  She hisses again as she tries to take it off again.

“Shea.  Let me take care of you.”  He reaches down and starts unlacing her boots.

“I feel like an invalid.”

“Well, you did just have a mountain fall on you.”

“Nearly fall on me.  I found out there was a cavern under Haven.  The hard way.”  He helps her stand so he can continue removing the leather armor.  She hisses in pain occasionally, but it is less painful than her trying herself.  Once she is in her small clothes, he turns to grabs a shirt and pants for her to wear.  While his back is turned she looks down at herself.  There are three large bandages, one around her right arm, one around her thigh, and the biggest one is wrapped tightly around her ribcage.  Her skin is pale and marbled from all the bruises.  He watches her examine herself for a moment. She moves her hand to lift the bandage on her ribs.

“Don’t!”

“Why not?”

“The… your… It’s the worst of your injuries, by far.  There’s a compress under those bandages.  It’s…”

She looks up at him, touching her side.  “It’s bad? Isn’t it?”

“It was life threatening.  The cold and your armor likely saved your life.”

She feels like crying.  “How bad…?”

He sighs.  He helps her put on pants and then the shirt.  “They… when… they couldn’t heal the wound.  They ran out of energy fixing your…  Your ribs were shatters.  I don’t know how many.  They punctured your lung.  If we didn’t have Solas and Dorian… It took 6 bottles of lyrium and a few hours to heal them.   Then all that magic pouring into… we thought it best to let the rest heal naturally.”

“You mean… scars?”  She sighs, “And I’ve doing so well avoiding those.”

“I haven’t given you a thorough examination, but you’ll have four fairly large scars.  Three of which, only I will see.”

She heart stops.  “That means I’m going to have one I can’t hide.”  He nods.  “Where?  I want to see it.”

“It’s not healed all the way.  And there’s currently a bandage on it.  Just… can you stop worrying about it?  For now?  The longer the bandages stay on the smaller those scars will be.  I do have experience with that.  So, please, for me, let it go for now.”

She groans, “Of course you’d bring yourself into this.  How could I possibly deny that request now?”  She steps closer to him and lays her forehead on his chest.  He gently wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her head.  “Ugh.  Don’t do that.  I’m probably filthy.”

He chuckles, “Have you ever wondered how Dorian stays so clean even after having blood sprayed all over him?”

“No.  Though now that you mention it…”

“This is a direct quote mind you.”  He clears his throat and tries to do his best Dorian impression, “I could never find clothes as exquisite as these in _Ferelden._ I’ll be damned if I’m losing any of these to bloodstains.”  She laughs and winces.  “Sorry.  Has he ever said the word ‘magic’ and wiggled his fingers through the air?”

She laughs again and winces, “Maker, yes!  Varric and I almost died the first time he did it.  I’m convinced it’s why Varric calls him Sparkler.”  She holds her side as she laughs.  “Ow!  Laughing hurts.”  She looks up at him and then points at his face.  “That!  That’s the look I was talking about.”

“What look am I making?”

“Like… uh… shit!  Stupid brain!”  She goes to rub her temples and feels the bandage.  “Oh no.  It feels huge!”

“Don’t mash on it.”  He pulls her hands away.  She places her forehead on his chest.

“I bet it’s going to look hideous.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’m about to learn something new about you?”

She groans and walks away from him.  “Alright.  You’ve got me.  My one personality flaw.”

“Only one?”  He throws his hand up palms forward as she spins around to glare at him.  “I’m sorry.  Should have sensed the mood change.”  He sits on the cot and waits.

“Ok.  So _maybe_ I have more than one flaw, but this one.  This I don’t take pride in.  I have my mother to thank for it after all.  I might be… a little bit… vain.”

“Vain?  A woman who gets covered in blood practically on a daily basis is vain?  I don’t see it.”

“Really think about it?  I had a bath installed in my tiny cabin.  Made sure fresh water was in it and waiting for me every time I came back.  I am very particular about how my hair is styled.  I had an actual mirror and didn’t use my armor as one.  I _travelled_ with a _mirror_.”

“Alright, but how does all that make you vain?”

“I’m a warrior and yet I don’t… didn’t have a single scar.  Not even a tiny one.  It takes a lot of effort to keep skin that clear.”

“And that’s why you’re upset about the visible scar?”

“It’s irrational.  I’m well aware.  Breaking my noble habits has been hard.  I _think_ this is the last one.”

He laughs, “So you care about how you look, yes, but you don’t let it dictate your life, like a couple of mages I know.  I saw her crying after Haven.  Thought maybe her iron heart was feeling something for what happened.  Nope.  She was crying because she lost one of her favorite hats.  A single hat.  Leliana loves shoes, but she’s not crying over the ones she lost.  Caring about how you look is one thing, obsessing over it is vanity.  Which is why I don’t think you are vain.”

“I don’t know why I’m so upset about a scar.  It could have been much worse.  It almost was.”  Cullen sighs, “There’s that look again.”

“Come here.”  He holds open his arms and she sits in his lap.  He wraps his arm carefully around her.  “Do you really want to know what that look is?”  She nods.  “I… I guess I would describe them as aftershocks.  Little pangs of… guilt and sorrow.  My mind is having a hard time processing the fact that you’re really here and not some extremely vivid hallucination.”

“I’m very real.  Though I guess that’s what a vision would say.  I’m alive.  I’m here.  With you.  And I’ll address that whole guilt thing later.  For now, I just want to be here.  With you.”  She runs her fingers through his hair.  “I… you saved me, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“It took me a while to realize it, what with the blood loss, and pain, and head trauma.  I kept saying to myself, out loud mind you, that ‘I will not die.’  Until I emerged from that cavern, I didn’t know why.  But when the wind made my body numb, my mind let me… no… my _soul_ let me know why.  You.  I had to make it back to you.  To see your face one last time.  If I died of my injuries, so be it.  But I was bound and determined to see your face, your eyes, this scar,” She runs her finger down the scar and traces his lower lip.  “And so, you saved me.  I am very confident that if you had never entered my life like you have, I would have died in that cavern.”

Tears fall from his eyes, “Oh, Shea.  I…”  He rest his forehead against hers. “I… I…”

“You don’t have to…”

“Please let me get this out.  I’m ashamed to say it out loud and if I don’t get it out.  It’s going to be stuck inside me forever.  When I left you for dead, when I allowed you to sacrifice yourself, I wanted to go with you.  I kept thinking I should have died with you.  I _wanted_ to die with you.  Or die in your place.  I’m not sure which.  I felt dead inside.  I couldn’t feel my heart anymore.  I know now, after watching that creature attack you and a mountain bury you, that I can’t go on living in a world that you aren’t in.”

She takes a shaky breath, “Cullen.”  Her heart is broken and singing at the same time.

“So, I guess you could say… we saved each other.”

She forces him to look at her.  “You...” she doesn’t know what to say.  Looking into his eyes now, she call see he hasn’t slept in a longtime.  “When has the last time you slept?”

“I‘ve only had a few hours rest since Haven.  Which was… five days ago.”

“Five days?!  How are you not dead?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

She stand and points at the cot.  “Sleep.  Now.”  When he doesn’t move, she shoves him.  She winces then holds her side.  Cursing under her breath.

“You’re not…”

“Do you think there is any force in this world that can take me from you now?  Now, lay down.  While I figure out how the hell I can sleep like,” she gestures to her ribs, “this.”

He lays on his back moves to the far edge of the cot.  “Try laying on your good side then rolling this way.  My body will support your wounded side.”

He braces her as sits and then lowers herself onto the cot.  His hands never leave her as she very slowly gets into position.  She winces as she tries to roll toward him.  She pauses as the pain fades.  She bites her lip and stiffens her body.  Then pushes off with her leg and rolls.  She relaxes as her face makes contact with his chest.  She wraps on of her leg over his.  She shifts and winces trying to get comfortable.  He slides an arm under her side and gently lifts.  She might as well be on top of him now.  “Better?”

“Yes, actually.  I just wish it wasn’t so cold.”

“Are you cold?”

“No, but it’s so cold up here that you are being forced to wear a shirt.”

He smirks, “If you had said that _before_ we got comfortable, I would have taken it off and endured.  For you.”

She pushes off him, hisses softly, and sits on her knees.  “Oh no.  I can’t believe I got up and I was so comfortable.”  She smiles down at him.  “That’s your cue.”

He sits up and kisses her neck before taking off his shirt.  He drops it on the floor next to the cot.  He takes her face in his hands.  She runs her hand up the back of his head, running her fingers though his hair.  “You have no idea how happy I am right now.”  She presses her forehead against his holding in the sound of her pain.

“You can tell me all about it later.  Now go to sleep.”  He lays back on the cot and braces her as she lowers herself back into position.  Once comfortable, she twirls his chest hair between her fingers.  He kisses the top of her head.  Though she isn’t really tired, she feels her eyes drifting closed.  This is her favorite spot.  Her ear presses against his chest listening to his heart beat safe in his arms.  Her past doesn’t matter anymore.  She chooses to let the memories of her old room fade.  She tries to push her vanity aside.  He thinks she is beautiful.  He’s even seen the scars before she has and he didn’t run for the hills.  He truly cares for you as she cares for him.  If nothing else went right in the world, more crazy and horrible piled on top of already towering stack, she’ll at least have him.  Something good in the eyes of the evil storm.

His thoughts are of a similar flavor as hers.  He feels complete.  For the first time since the events at Kinloch Hold, he feels like himself.  She is healing him more than she knows.  It is time to tell her some things.  Maybe not of his past, but of his present.  Give some context to his suffering.  He loves her.  He loves her with every fiber of his being.  He knows how it feels to be without her, even if it was only for a few long, agonizing hours.  He never wants to do that again.  Yet he knows an ancient being will start to hunt her again once he figures out she isn’t dead.  He will protect her.  He will go with her when the time comes.  He is not going to send her to her death again.  Ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all recovered from the last chapter! Thanks again for reading!
> 
> UPDATED July 21, 2018


	26. Giants in the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift

Walking the grounds, the image of the great fortress wising up out of the mist as they crested a mountain pass still hangs in her mind.  Skyhold.  It rivals any castle she’s ever seen.  It is ancient and massive.  Built at top a mountain all its own.  She can only imagine who built it or why they’d leave.  The only entrance is a hidden door built into the valley below.  Inside is a massive, spiraling ramp, their mounts and wagons had no trouble going up.  The draw bridge that connects the small keep entrance to the massive castle was still down from whomever used it last.  The gates wide open and welcoming.  It is completely abandoned, save for a few animals that are then killed for food.  It is in disrepair and structures need to be fixed or sured up, but it is strong.  It has good bones.  Up on the battlements, you can see for miles.

They arrived a week ago and work is progressing quickly.  This is her first time to really explore, to see what is going on.  Cullen made her promise to stay in the infirmary until she could sit up without pain and could think more clearly.  He also refused to give her access to a mirror and purposefully covered anything reflective when he came to see her.  He gave that same order to anyone who was allowed to visit her.  The only one who came close to caving was Dorian.  She’d tried to appeal to his own vanity.  The scar her face was the only one she hadn’t seen.  The others she peeked at when no one was around.

Skyhold is buzzing with activity.  People come from all over Southern Thedas to join the Inquisition or at least to try to catch a glimpse of the ever popular Herald of Andraste.  She is having a perfectly lovely day, when she spots the advisors and Cassandra huddled together.  As she approaches, Cassandra waves her over and the others leave.  _Well, this smells like trouble._

“Did you need something, Cassandra?”

“Are you feeling well?

“Nearly good as new.  Though I still wish someone would take this bandage off my face and let me look at it.”

She smirks, “Is this your first big scar?”

“They all are.  I didn’t have any before.”

She starts walking and Shea follows beside her.  “As you can tell, people are coming to Skyhold from all over.  It’s becoming a pilgrimage.  If word has reached these people, we can be certain it has also reached the Elder One.  We have the numbers and walls to put up a fight here.  But this threat is far greater than the war we anticipated.  Your actions let us heal the sky.  Your determination brought us out of Haven.”  They walk together up the main stair case that leads to Skyhold’s throne room.  “You are the creature’s rival because of what you did.  And we know it.  All of us.” 

As the reach they landing halfway up, she sees Leliana standing with a large sword, the hilt in the shape of a dragon head with blade coming out of its mouth.  Shea has a feeling she knows what’s coming and she doesn’t know how she feels about it.  Cassandra continues, “The Inquisition requires a leader.  The one who has already been leading it.”  Shea looks over to see that almost everyone in Skyhold has gathered on the ground below.  Cullen and Josephine are standing front and center.  Everyone is smiling and looking up at her.  _Yep, this is exactly what I think it is._

Cassandra turns to face her and smiles, “You.”

She’s not surprised, but with everyone gathered it occurs to her that this is something different than worship.  It’s respect.  They follow her because of who she is and what she believes in.  What she fights for.  Her selflessness in the face of danger.  Her desire to protect the people of Thedas.  “It’s unanimous?  You all have that much confidence in me?”

“All of these people have their lives, because of you.  They will follow.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“There would be no Inquisition without you.  How it will serve, how you will lead, that must be yours to decide.”

Leliana bows her head to her as she looks down at the sword offered to her.  Is she asking for a declaration?  She has to decide right now how she’s going to lead the entire Inquisition?  That’s a lot to think about in a matter of seconds.  She knows she will accept, but she’s going have to think fast to decide what the Inquisition will stand for.  She takes the sword from Leliana’s hands.  She holds it in front of her looking up and down the blade.  Why a dragon?  They are strong, fierce, and fight till the death, much like she had done.  But their enemy is still out there and he must be stopped.

She takes a deep breath, “Corypheus will never let me live in peace.  He made that clear.  He intends to be a god, to rule over us all.  Corypheus must be stopped.”

“Where ever you lead us.”  She walks past her facing the crowd. Shea follows suit.  “Have our people been told?!”

Josephine steps forward, “They have and soon the world!”

“Commander, will they follow?”

He smirks up at her then turns to face the crowd, “Inquisition?  Will you follow?”  They all cheer.  He raises his hand encouraging them to be louder, “Will you fight?”  They cheer louder.  He raises his other hold, asking them to be louder, “Will we triumph?!”  The cheers are deafening.  She feels their energy and drive flow up to her.  She smiles, she’s pumped.  Cullen draws his sword, “Your Leader!  Your Herald!  Your Inquisitor!”  He thrusts his sword into the sky, pointing at her.  Somehow the cheering gets louder.  People are thrusting their fist in the air, jumping and clapping.  She likes the way thrusting his sword in the air looks.  Bold and fierce.  So she thrusts the Inquisitor’s sword, her sword, into the air above her head.  Skyhold vibrates with all the cheering and stomping.  Even Josephine lets out a loud cheer, then promptly covers her mouth.  She was obviously not expecting that.

She lowers the sword and people start hugging and cheers continue.  Cassandra heads back down the stairs.  Cullen and Josephine come up to meet Shea and Leliana.  Shea makes eye contact with Cullen briefly.  He smirks.  She turns to climb the rest of the steps.  _Let’s see this throne room as it appears it is now mine._

She shoves the massive doors open.  It’s dark and dusty.  Shattered wood is all over the place along with a downed chandelier.  _Not as glamorous as I’d hoped, but with a little clean up it’ll be beautiful._

She and the advisors discuss options for what to do next.  Someone brings up the future she saw in Redcliffe, Empress Celene of Orlais had been assassinated and the Elder One had a massive army full of demons.  Leliana says she’d feel better if she had more information about what they are dealing with.

Varric chimes in as he enters the throne room, “I know someone who can help with that.”  They all turn to look at him.  “Everyone acting all inspirational jogged my memory, so I sent a message to… an old friend.  He’s crossed paths with Corypheus before, and may know more about what he’s doing.  He can help.”

Varric knows a lot of people.  It could be anyone, but she has a pretty good idea who it might be.  “Then you’d better introduce us.”

He looks around, “Just parading around might cause a fuss.  It’s better for you to meet privately on the battlements.”  He leaves. 

Josephine makes a few notes on her pad, “We stand ready to move on both of these concerns.”

Cullen says, “On your order, Inquisitor.”

Leliana sighs, “I know one thing.  If Varric has brought who I think he has, Cassandra is going to kill him.”

Shea is sure it will take time for Varric’s friend to arrive and she has a thousand things to do.  Thinking his catchphrase makes her smile.  Her first order of business, she needs to find Harritt.  If she is going to go out in the world to save it, she will need new armor.  After examining the new scar on her abdomen and having someone bring her damaged armor to her, she determined that while the impact is what actually broke her ribs, the armor itself is what caused the cut.  It had sliced through the padded shirt and dug in.  She has seen Cullen’s armor enough to see that the red draping in front actually hid the fact that the metal goes all the way to his waist where hers only stopped midway.  She knows exactly what she wants and she wants it before she goes back in the field.

***

Cullen has stationed himself in the courtyard until the tower he selected for his office is prepared.  He has to place rocks on his papers to keep them in place and he has no privacy, but it will do for now.  Though Josephine has connections, she knows nothing about construction.  He has taken it upon himself to organize reconstruction.  The villagers, merchants, and mounts are currently unprotected in the valley below.   The place he wants to set them up is currently blocked by a fallen bridge.

Shea descends the stairs and watches him for a while.  He is so focused, so determined to not let what happened at Haven happen again.  Between construction and reorganizing his troops, he is so consumed with work, he doesn’t see her approach.

“How are things progressing, Commander?”

“Inquisitor.  I’m glad you’re here.  I wanted your opinion on something.”

“Do you ever stop working?”

He smiles, “I think you know the answer to that.  Have you gotten a chance to look around?”

“I just toured the ramparts with Blackwall.  We have a good vantage point of anyone approaching.”

“With only one way in and out of Skyhold, we won’t be able to run if attacked.  Though I would not want to.  My main concern is getting everyone inside.  We still have a lot of people in the valley below.  I’m having trouble finding where best to set up housing.”

She thinks for a moment.  “Some of the doors are still blocked inside, but I’ve seen stairs leading down.  Skyhold might be as large underground as it is above it.  If we can reach out to dwarven engineers, who are used to building and living underground, we might be able to make the space a comfortable and secure place to be.”

“Our inspection revealed that we shouldn’t try to changes any of the structures below.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.  If we can get down there, we might just be able to add houses or something.  I don’t know about all this stuff, I was just thinking that dwarves know how to make underground places seem like home.”

“I’ll see if Josephine has any contacts with some contacts who can help with that, Inquisitor.”

Something seems off.  He is being a little short with her.  There are people milling around them, so she can’t really say what she wants to.  She knows how he feels about appearing professional in front of his people.  “Is there… anything you need me to look into for you, Commander?”

He looks up at her then.  “No, Inquisitor.  Everything is well in hand.”

“I will… leave you to it then.”  The way he said her new title led her to believe that he is upset about it.  She has no idea why.  He has to have had a say in the whole thing.  They haven’t spent the night together since arriving in Skyhold.  Was this why?  She sighs and walks away.  He doesn’t stop her.  He just turns back to issue more orders and read more papers.

She walks the grounds catching up with her companions.  She summons the war council to get people out in the field to deal with problems and scout new areas.  Even then he barely speaks to her.  It hurts that he is so distant and that she doesn’t know the reason behind it.  After Haven and then the trip to find Skyhold, he never left her side nor she his, and they shared a tent every night.  They talked more than they ever have.  She was completely open to every question and even let him know some of how she was feeling about him.  During their talks, she was careful about asking about the things she knew he didn’t want to talk about.  The more she thinks about it the more she realizes that at this point he knows more about her than she knows about him.

I isn’t a huge deal.  She knows he cares about her.  Maybe even has feelings similar to her own.  He just wouldn’t say it.  Her hurt slowly turns to anger the more she tries to make sense of how he is acting.  She needs a distraction and quickly or she is going to cause a scene.  Leave it to the Qunari spy to be the first one to notice her mood.

“What’s up, Boss?”

“How do you… never mind.  I keep forgetting you’re Ben-Hassrath.  It’s Cullen.  He’s been… distant since we got here.  I wish I knew why.  I feel like I’ve let him in more than he’s let me in.”

“The Commander likes his secrets almost as much as Red.”

“I’ve kept nothing from him.  And he knows I would never judge him poorly for things in his past.”

“I’m sure he does.  Give it time.”

“Patience is not always one of my virtues.  But you’re right.  I just hope he’s not trying to push me away.”

“I know what will take your mind off this.”

“What?”

He smiles at her.  “Get your axe.  It’s time we got you back into fighting shape.  Don’t worry I’ll go easy on you.”

She smiles, “Not you won’t.”

“You’re right.  I won’t.”

They go off to find somewhere private to spar.  She’s still not back at 100% and doesn’t want to embarrass herself in front of everyone.  Also fighting the Bull without proper armor is something she knows people won’t approve of.

***

Shea wakes up sore the next morning.  Sore, but not injured.  Fighting Iron Bull without armor forced her to doge his attacks more, which is something she was not used to doing.  It had surprised her how well she did, even though she ultimately lost.  She avoided Cullen as much as she could.  The match had helped clear her head and she decided that if he was going to be distant, she would make him come to her.

As she eats a small breakfast, a note arrives.  It is from Harritt.  He needs her to come to the undercroft whenever she is free.  She is getting restless from just sitting or walking around Skyhold.  She is ready to go back out in the field.  Show the people of Thedas that she is alive and that her Inquisition is still working to fix the world.  Having stabilized the Hinterlands and Storm Coast, it is time to make an impact in Orlais.  She figures the best place to start would be somewhere in the Dales, since it is also dealing with the Orlesian Civil War.  She plans on asking the council where they think she should go first.

She gets up and heads for the war room.  On the way Josephine stops her.  “Inquisitor.  I wanted to let you know that I made it a priority yesterday to get your quarters functional.  You don’t need to be in the infirmary anymore and you need a place to work in private.”

“Alright.  Lead the way.”

She follows Josephine into the throne room.  A lot of the debris has been removed but it was far from ready for guests.  At the far end of the hall, on the opposite end of the main hall and right across from the door leading to the undercroft, is a door she hadn’t seen before.  Josephine unlocks it and pushes the door open.  As they ascended the stairs, Shea realizes they were climbing the tallest tower in Skyhold.  The stairs open up to a large loft.  Three of the walls consist of stained glass windows with the middle one holding a large fireplace as well.  The fourth holds two doorways and an indoor balcony.   Outside the windows, she can see to large balconies, one overlooked Skyhold, the one by the fireplace has a balcony with a breathtaking view of the mountains.

“We did what we could with the resources available.  You have a study area over there with a desk and bookshelves.  I have filled them with various books I think might be of use.  The bed is simple, but should work.  There is a merchant in Val Royeaux if you ever feel like purchasing furniture.  The missive said any items purchased would be delivered here at no extra cost or effort on your part.  I’ve had a couch placed over here, out of the way.  I personally like to read in front of the fire, so if you wish to move it, that is up to you.”

“It’s lovely.  Thank you.”

Josephine motions to a wardrobe.  “I’ve also had some clothes made for you.  They arrived this morning.  They are all in the wardrobe here.”

“I have clothes of my own?  I can’t remember how long it’s been.  All I’ve had that was _mine_ was my armor.”

“You’re the Inquisitor now.  You must look the part as well.  If you don’t like anyone those options, I can commission more.” 

“Thank you, Josie.  And… could you call me Shea?  Out of earshot of others, of course.  Appearances and all.  But I consider you my friend and… friends are usually on a first name basis.”

“I… consider you a friend as well.  So yes.  I think I will.  Do you need anything else?”

“I think that’s it.  Thank you.  I will be calling a meeting shortly, if you could spread the word.”

She nods “I’ve placed the key to your door on the desk.  Only two people have a copy.  You and me.  I’m having a bell installed so you can hear if someone is at the door.”  She leaves Shea alone in her giant room.  Shea runs to the railing of the stairs and waits to hear the door lock.  Once it does she stands in the center of the room and screams, “This room is awesome!”  She waits.  Nothing happens.  She takes a deep breath and lets out the loudest scream she can.  She waits.  Nothing.

“Well… that’s both a comfort and a little scary.”  She goes over to the window and opens it.  She steps out onto the balcony and leans on the railing.  She watches everyone scurry around Skyhold, going about their business.  From way up here, they are all teeny tiny, like ants.  She watches for a while, then pushes back from the railing.  She pulls open to wardrobe.  It’s packed with clothes.  Dresses, formal uniforms, really nice casual clothes.  There’s even some light armor pieces, not really good for a fight, but it gives off a look of readiness.  She strips down to her bandages and smallclothes.  Her runs her hand across the giant one of her ribs and wonders when they will finally come off.  Casting the thoughts aside, she goes through each outfit, trying to decide what she wants to wear.  What does she want to say when she walks into a room as the Inquisitor?

She grabs an outfit from the wardrobe and tosses it on the bed.  She turns to close the wardrobe door and stops.  Inside the door is a full length mirror.  She looks at her reflection.  Her body is still battered and bruised.  The healers told her the bandages need to stay on to avoid infection.  They will remove them once the scars have completely healed over.  Her hand itches to yank the one from her face just to see what it looks like.  She quickly closes the wardrobe door.  “No.  Not yet.  It’s not healed.  Even if I look now, it’ll look different after it heals.   Just wait.”  She grabs her new clothes and dresses, then heads for the meeting.

***

Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen, her official advisors, are all standing in the war room.

“She knows I have a thousand things to do for _her_ forces, right?  We’ve been waiting a half hour already.”

“Commander, I left her with a very important task.  If I had realized her was going to put this mush thought into it, I would have delayed calling the meeting.”

“What task?”

Then door to the war room opens and Shea enters.  She is wearing dark brown leather boots, gray skintight pants with metal accents, and a blue silk brocade, long sleeved button down shirt.  Her auburn hair is styled neatly in its usual way.  The rich fabrics brighten her eyes and hair.  She looks like a leader.  Cullen’s impatience and anger melt away.  It’s the first time he’s really looked at her in days.

“My apologies for keeping you all waiting.  Have any reports come in from the missions yesterday?”

Cullen blinks away his awe.  She looks the part now.  Not some girl playing at soldier as she always said, but a beautiful woman and a leader.  He clear his throat, “Yes.”  Reports are shared, business done, plans are made.  She makes plans to go to The Exalted Plains once her armor is ready and her injuries are completely healed.  Those who report their assignments are completed, receive another one.  Then she ends the meeting.

Leliana and Josephine rush off to get to work while Cullen hangs back.  Shea is going over a few reports from Scout Harding, who is currently in The Exalted Plains, preparing herself for the trip.  He stands there watching her.  She suddenly slams the report on the table and looks at him.

“Nothing?  You have nothing to say?”

He is stunned at the anger she has aimed at him.  She’s never been mad at him before.  “I… are you… are you mad at me?”

Shea sighs, “Not mad.  Just… frustrated.”

He places his palms on the table.  “Why are you frustrated with me?”

“Seriously?  You don’t know?”

“In not a minder reader, Shea.”

She scoffs, “Do you know that’s the first time you’ve said my name in over a week?  It’s been Herald this and Herald that, until yesterday, when it became Inquisitor this, Inquisitor that.”

“I’ve had a lot of work to do…”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Cullen.  We’ve always had a lot of work to do.  It’s been nonstop since the day we met.”

“You know I’ve…”

She holds up a hand, “Let me finish.  I don’t know what I did that caused you to be so distant, but I don’t like it.  Is this because I’m the Inquisitor now?  Because I’ll remind you that all of you chose me to lead.  So, explain to me what I did?”

He rushes to her. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why?  I’ve only seen you in an official capacity since we arrived at Skyhold.”

“I really don’t want to…”

“Fine.  If you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll just go.  See you at the next meeting.”  She goes to storm out and he blocks the door.  “What?”

“If you’d let me talk…”

“If you have something to say, then say it.  Otherwise, I have things to do.”

“I want… I need you to be patient a little longer.  I am… mentally preparing myself to tell you something important, both in a personal nature and a professional one.  It’s not easy for me and I worry about your reaction.”

She sighs, “Cullen.  When have I ever shied away from anything you’ve had to tell me?  Whatever it is… it won’t affect how I feel about you.  You should know that by now.”

“Please trust me and give me time.  You know I have trouble talking about myself, but I want you to know everything.  I just need time, which is a luxury we have because of you.”

She looks into his warm, pleading eyes.  She sighs, “Fine, but no more distance.  It feels like you’re pulling away from me.  Is there any way you can prepare yourself while still being…?”

He pulls her into a hug.  “I’m sorry that I’m neglecting you.  That was not my intention.”

She wraps her arms around his waist and squeezes.  “That makes me sound needy and clingy.  If you need to stay away then I guess, I’ll have to endure.”

“I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”

“I’m not suffering.  Just not having you with me makes me feel lonely.  You are my best friend.  Probably the only person in the whole world who knows exactly who I am.  Better than even Moira.  Speaking of… have we heard from her or the people we have looking for her?”

“No.  She’s too good at covering her tracks.  I’ve told the scouts to make a bigger fuss about the Inquisition presence in the area and hope she reaches out.  What are your plans for the evening?”

“Just doing some work in my room.  Maybe seeing about having a bath installed in a little room I found up there.”

“Then I promise I’ll meet you there after I’ve completed my tasks for today.”

“Alright.  I will hold you to that.  Or you can expect to be yelled at again.  And this time, people will be in the room.”

She runs the finger down his scar causing him to smirk.  She ducks under his arm and leaves.  He watches her go and sighs.  It was their first fight and he caused it to happen.  How had he let it get so out of control?  What is he so afraid of?  He shakes the thoughts from his mind and leaves the war room to go back to his duties.

***

When Shea enters the undercroft, the sound of clanking metal fills her ears.  Harritt is flattening metal.  She doesn’t want to bother him, but he had asked for her.  She moves to stand near him watching him work.  “I’ll right with you, Inquisitor.”

“Don’t mind me.  I’ve got time.”

He works on the metal a few minutes and then sets it aside.  “Sorry.  It was being difficult.  What can I do for you, inquisitor?”

She smiles, “You needed me for something.  So, here I am.”

“Oh!  Right!”  He puts his hammer down and wipes his hands on a cloth.  “I got part of your new armor finished.  Don’t get too excited.  It’s just the under padding.  It’s tighter than you’re used to and I want to make sure you have full range of motion, before I start making it in earnest.  You’re designs are very specific.  I also wanted to suggest you hire an arcanist.  I’m sure your advisors can help you find one.  The sooner the better, I have some materials I want to use on this new set and need help manipulating it.”

“I’ll have it done as soon as possible.”  She takes the pile offered to her.  “I’ll be back within the hour.”  He nods and she heads for her room.  Just outside the door, she sees a delicate rope hanging next to it.  She gives it a tug and hears a quiet ring.  She opens her door and locks it behind her.  She looks up and rope continues.  It stretches up and at last stops in the middle of first landing.  There is a small bell hanging on the wall, the thin rope attached to the bell’s swinging arm.  She pulls on the rope causing the bell to move and ring.  That will help a lot if someone comes to visit her.

She lays what she has dubbed her Inquisitor uniform on her bed.  She puts on the dark red leather.  It hugs every curve perfectly.  She bends and stretches testing the fit.  She squats, lunges, and swings her arms.  It fits so well she can barely feel it.  It feels like a second layer of skin.  Her excitement to see the completed set makes a smile spread wide across her face.  She changes back into her Inquisitor uniform and folds the soft dark red leather padding.  Then rushes back to the undercroft.

Harritt has resumed his hammering.  “It’s perfect!  Fits like a glove!”

He sets the hammer down and wipes his hands, “Good.  Then the rest should fit as well.  I’m working on a way for you to put in on faster too.  I’ll let you know how that goes.”

“Great!  How’s the progress?”

“Still just getting the metal ready to shape.  If we get that arcanist here quickly, I should be able to complete it by next week.  I’m getting all this prep out of the way now.”

“Then I better get on it.  Can’t just sit around Skyhold doing nothing.”  She nods to him and heads back up the stairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate all the comments! Keep them coming!
> 
> UPDATED July 21, 2018


	27. Open Your Eyes

When she reaches the throne room, she sees Cullen standing near her door holding a small wooden box in his hands.  “Hey!”

He looks up.  “Oh.  I thought you’d be at your desk.”

“Nope.  Just doing something for Harritt.”

“You’re in a good mood all of a sudden.”

“What and I should be cranky like you?”

He smirks at her, “No, I suppose not.  Are you…”

“Upset?  No.”

“Over it so quickly?”

She shrugs, “I called you out on your shit, you explained, so it’s water under the bridge.  As long as you keep me in the loop, I’m good.  That and I just got a sneak peek at my new armor and I’m very excited about it.  Speaking of which?  Do you know of an arcanist?  Harritt says he thinks we should hire one.”

“I can look into it.  How soon does he need one?”

“He didn’t have a deadline, but I need armor.  And my designs are very specific.  The longer it takes to acquire one, the longer I have to stay in Skyhold.  And there’s a lot of things out in the world that need fixing.”

“I can’t argue with that.  I… I was actually coming to see you.”

She steps closer to him, “Oh really?”

He motions to her door, “I’d like to speak privately.”

She unlocks her door and pushes it open.  “After you, Commander.”

They walk through the door and she locks it.  They continue up the stairs in silence.  Based on his tone, this is something serious.

“Wow!  Josephine went all out restoring this place.”

“If I go to some merchant in Val Royeaux, I can get different glass for the windows as well as furniture.”

“The views are incredible.”

He’s stalling and she can feel it.  She takes his free hand.  “You’re stalling, Commander.”

He sighs, “This is hard.  I’m worried about your reaction.  I have been for months, but as the leader of the Inquisition and someone very dear to me… it’s important you know and understand this part of my life.”

She releases his hand and sits at her desk.  “Then I’m listening whenever you’re ready.  I will not rush or interject.  When you are ready for my input, I will offer it.”

He sets the box on the desk in front of her and opens it.  She seen this before, it’s the tools templars use to prepare the lyrium they take.  He steps back from the desk as she look down at the box, “As I’m sure you are aware, lyrium grants templars our abilities, but it controls us as well.  Those cut off suffer.  Some go mad, others die.  We have secured a reliable source of lyrium for the templars here.”  He pauses and take a deep breath.  She looks up at him and watches him struggle to get the words out, “But I… I no longer take it.”

She tries to hold her composure.  This _is_ big news.  She swallows, “You stopped?”

“Yes.”  He looks down at his hands and fiddles with his glove.  “When I joined the Inquisition.  It’s been months now.”

She grew up in a family of templars.  She knows what this could mean, not to mention he just said it.  She stands, “Cullen, if this can kill you…”

“It hasn’t yet.”  His voice softens to just above a whisper, “After what happened in Kirkwall, I couldn’t.  I will not be bound to the Order or that life any longer.  Whatever the suffering, I accept it.  But I would not put the Inquisition at risk.  I have asked Cassandra to… watch me.  If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved of duty.”

Shea steps towards him.  “Are… you in pain?”

He looks up at her, “I can endure it.”

She takes his hand, “Thank you for telling me.  I respect what you’re doing.”

“Thank you, Inquis… Shea.  Our army must take priority.  Should anything happen… I will defer to Cassandra’s judgement.”

He sighs with relief having finally told her.  He looks down at her hand in his.  He laces his fingers between hers, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders.  She places her hand under his chin and makes him meet her eyes.  He can see her concern, but she’s also… happy?  She touches the side of his face, “Seriously.  Thank you.  I know how hard that was to admit.  How… how much pain this causes you.  And it makes some things make a lot more sense.”  He opens his mouth to ask a question, when her bell rings.  “Wait here. I’m not done with this conversation.”  He nods and she goes down the stairs.  He goes to stand on the balcony overlooking Skyhold.  He hears muffled talking and then a loud groan.  She comes stomping back up the stairs followed by Dorian and a female non-mage healer.

“Are we interrupting a meeting?  We can come back.”

“No, let’s get this over with.  These bandages are itchy and I’m hoping you two are going to tell me I don’t have to wear them anymore.”

Cullen comes back inside and leans on the wall.  She blushes and looks away.  She knows something he doesn’t and he’s about to learn it.  She sighs, “Upper or lower?”

Dorian chuckles, “Let’s get the awkward one out of the way.”  She unbuttons her pants and pushes them down.  Dorian didn’t mean awkward for her.  This part makes him uncomfortable.  He kneels in front of her and wraps the bandage around her thigh.   His fingers are dangerously close to her private areas.  Cullen shifts in his place against the wall.  He does not like how close Dorian is to her, even though he knows full well he isn’t interested.

Dorian passes the bandage to the healer and leans closer to her leg.  He presses gently around the long pink slice.  “Any pain?”

“Nope.”

He summons some magic and places his hands across her thigh.  Cullen is suddenly very jealous of the mage.  “This one’s good.  It’ll still be a little tender for a few more days, but it’s healed nicely.”  He removes his hands the pink line has turned into a pale scar.  She pulls up her pants and buttons them.  He stands.  “And now your least favorite part.  Should we ask…?”

“No.  It’s fine.”  She winks at him, “Nothing he hasn’t seen before.”  She unbuttons her shirt.  He doesn’t move to stop her because he knows they are there to check on her injuries.  He notices all of her bruise are gone which makes him happy.

Dorian unwraps her right arm, handing the bandage to the healer.  Another large pink then is revealed.  It travels diagonally across her bicep.  He presses around it.  “Pain?”

“Again.  No.”

He places his hands over the line and summons magic.  When he pulls his hands away, this wound has also turned into a pale scar.  “This one is healed too.  No more bandage.”

Dorian glances at Cullen.  He wonders why Dorian looks at him.  Dorian chuckles, “Well, this shouldn’t be awkward at all.”  He slowly unwraps the bandage that is tightly wrapped over her chest and ribcage.  Cullen cheeks flush.  As the bandage falls away, it reveals her bare chest.  Shea looks over at Cullen.  Dorian chuckles as this whole situation he’s been put in is amusing.  Cullen eyes trace the lines of her body.  They settles on the thick red line on her side.  It starts on her side and curves to a stop about three inches left of center at the top of her abs.  Dorian gently presses around the wound and she winces.  “Sorry.  Looks like this one will need a few more sessions. But it’s close.”  He softly places his hands over the wound.  Cullen’s eyes narrow in on his fingers as they are resting on the side of her breast.

His mind picks this moment to remind him of a few facts about her life.  One, he was the only person to ever see her naked.  Two, this also made him the only person to have touched her breasts.  Which meant none of those are true now.  Dorian and this healer, maybe a few other healers, have now seen parts of her that he wished they hadn’t.  He feels possessive in this moment.  He hates that anyone else has seen her like this.

She watches him as Dorian healed her.  Sees his eyes glue to the hands on her.  Maybe she should have made him leave.  He looks angry.  Dorian finishes his spell and removes his hands.  The line isn’t as thick, but it is still red.  The healer hands him a new bandage and helps him wrap it tightly around her chest and ribs.  She quickly puts her shirt back on.

Dorian glances at Cullen and then quickly looks away.  If steam could have been coming out his ears, it would have.  “Almost done.”

Shea closes her eyes and raise her chin so Dorian can better work on her face.  He slowly peels the bandage off of the left side of her face and hands it to the healer.  Without pressing on it, he places his hand over the wound before Cullen can see it.  He summons his magic and leaves it there longer than the others.  His magic fades and he sighs.  “Darling, I tried.  I really did.  Short of using blood magic, I can’t think of anything else that will help.  I’m sorry.”

She takes a shaky breath and sighs, “How bad is it?”

“A lot better than it would have been had someone else tried.”

“You mean Solas.  Because I’m not letting Vivienne anywhere near my face.”

“Yes, I mean Solas.  He’s more focused on the healing part and not the restoration of beauty.  If it helps, it makes you look like a bad ass.”

“Is it done then?”

“Yes, darling.  As gone as I can make it.  No more bandage.”

The moment of truth.  Dorian waves off the healer who scurries away.  She opens her eyes.  She’s nervous.  She reaches up her hand to touch her new scar.  She runs her fingers down the side of her face and gasps.  She rushes to the wardrobe and flings it open.  Her eyes instantly finding it.  The indented, slightly curved line starts just below her hairline, cuts through the outer edge of her eyebrow, skims past the corner of her eye, and ends on her cheekbone.  Tears well up in her eyes.  A hideous reminder of what Corypheus did to her.

Dorian and Cullen move to stand behind her.  Seeing Cullen’s reflection in the mirror, she covers her face.  Dorian pats her gently on the back, “Again, I’m sorry, love.  I really did try.”

“I know.  Thank you.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”  He nods and shoots a look at Cullen.  Cullen nods and Dorian pats his arm before leaving.  Cullen reaches around her and closes the wardrobe door.  With her face still covered, “What were we talking about?”

“We don’t have to…”

“Please.  Continue what you were about to say.”

“Shea…”  He places a hand on her back.

“No.  We were talking about you.  I want to continue talking about you.”

“Alright.  Will you at least sit?”  She nods, still covering her face.  He leads her over to the bed and helps her sit.  “What was the last thing we said?”

“I said… some things make a lot more sense now.”  He sits next to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“I was going to ask what things?”

“Your headaches.  That time your nose bled and you fainted after sparring.  That spell around your mind afterwards.”

“That wasn’t related to the lyrium directly.  There are… demons… from my past that… hunt me in the Fade.  Both in the literal sense and the figurative one.  I… can’t get into that right now, but one day I’ll tell you all about it.  I promise.  If the withdrawal takes a turn, like it did that day, I use the last of my energy to protect my mind.  I’m not always fast enough, it was a close call that day.  When I saw the blood on my glove, I knew I only had seconds.”

“Rylen said it shouldn’t have been possible.  That it would have worked if you had just gone to sleep, but being knocked out like that should have ended it.”

“Not if you are practiced enough at it.  A templar can take drastic measures to keep an ability like that active without trying to control it.  It’s like a dwarf’s resistance to magic and lyrium in that regard.  But it is dangerous.  Like I said, I have to use all of my energy to lock it in place.”

“Could that have killed you?”

“No.  But if I’m injured it stops, all attempts to heal me.  No magic can affect me at all.  But it also keeps the demons at bay.  It cuts me off from the Fade.”

“Wait.”  She uncovers her face to look at him.  “You… make yourself…”

“If I were a mage, yes.  For all intents and purposes, I make myself temporarily tranquil.  It’s the same ability actually.”

“Cullen.  That’s reckless!  What if it can’t be reversed?  What if…”

“Like I said, it’s temporary.  I’m not a mage, so the ability reverses.”

She turns her whole body to face him.  “But how do you know that?  Did you just try it out one day and hope it would to wear off?”

“Of course not.  I did research.  Templars are constantly trying to stop their nightmares.  Some take enough lyrium to make them forget, but that’s a last resort and even more dangerous.  I have a… friend who is a mage.  She helped me further understand the Fade.  There are potions you can take to prevent someone from dreaming for a night.  But she explained that, as a last resort, someone can make themselves tranquil which ends as soon as they wake up.  It doesn’t work on mages though, because once tranquil, a mage remains tranquil as their magic comes from the Fade.”

“Ok, how did this friend know it would work?”

“Honestly?  Testing.  She started it on Grey Wardens.  The taint in their blood causes them to have nightmares as well.  One of her friends had templar training and they had a volunteer.  So, as he went to sleep, her friend preformed the rite of tranquility on him.  The volunteer knew something bad could happen, she warned him of what it might do, but he was older and the nightmares kept him from sleeping.  She went to sleep and her friend watched over them.  She watched over the man from the Fade.  He never appeared, just as predicted.  He slept through the night and when he woke he felt fine.  They tested his emotional reaction to things and he was fine.  The next night he went to sleep and he dreamed.  She saw him appear in the Fade.”

“That sounds… ridiculous.”

“That’s what I thought.  But they repeated it a few more times over a few nights and the results were the same.  The rite never stuck.”

“But templars aren’t like Grey Wardens.  The lyrium in their blood would react, wouldn’t it?”

“They tested that too.  They found a templar who had his addiction under control.  But he was old.  Age would take him soon and when they told him what they were trying, he agreed to try it.  He wanted to have a few nights of rest from the dreams before he died.  But he didn’t trust anyone to perform anything on him.  She didn’t know it was possible, but he did performed the rite on himself before falling asleep.  Again she watched from the Fade.  Long story short it all turned out the same.”

“How did this get back to you then?”

“She wanted to try it on someone younger.  Someone who had actual demons after them.  So, she contacted me.”

“Why do you… never mind that’s part of the past you can’t talk about yet.”

“Right.  Initially, I said no. But when her friend contacted me, I was inclined to listen to him.  She came to see me, in Kirkwall, in secret.  We tried it a few times.  It worked.  Shortly after that, Cassandra came to recruit me and I decided to quit the Order and lyrium.  I wrote her, told her what I was doing, and she said only to do this as a last resort.  But without lyrium, I couldn’t perform the rite.  In fact, now that I think about it, I’m not sure how her friend managed it.  So I had to modify it.  I figured since magic is tied to the Fade, if I make myself immune to magic effects then I might also cut myself off from the Fade.  When I told her this, she said she’d watch me from the Fade and find someone to fix it if I couldn’t fix it myself.  It never came to that because it works.”

“Ok.  So you don’t make yourself tranquil, just immune to the effects of the Fade?”

“Right.”

She scoffs, “This all sounds like a load of horse shit.”

“I promise you it’s not.”

She furrows her brow, “Why do I get the feeling you’ve experimented with other templar abilities?”

“Because I have.  It’s mostly behind me now.  In the past.”

She sighs and leans her head on his chest.  “This is a lot to process.  But you’re sure you’re ok?”

“Yes.  I’m ok.”

“Good.  Let me know if that changes.”

“I promise.”

She looks up at him and holds his face between her hands.  “I’m serious, Cullen.  Toying with the Fade is dangerous shit.  I can’t lose you.  I’m a not some mage girl who can come recuse you’re dumb ass if you get stuck.  Swear to me you’ll be careful.”

“It’s only happened once.  But yes, you have my word I will be careful.  Because I can’t lose you either.”

She sighs and sits back on her knees.  She looks away from him and plays with the hem of her shirt.  “So, how mad are you?”

“What?”

“About the whole… healing… thing.  Because I saw your face.  I should have asked you to leave.”

He pulls her chin so he can look her in the eye.  She jerks away covering her face.  “Shea.  Look at me.”

“No.  I’m hideous.”

He lets out a hearty laugh, “That statement will never be true.  You are gorgeous.  Nothing can change that.”

“You’re just saying that.”

Cullen holds her face and hands between his.  “I have never lied to you.  I never will lie to you.  We all have scars.  One of your favorite features of mine is a scar.”

“Your scar is at least sexy.”

He scoots in closer to her.  “Everything about you is sexy.”

“You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“Yes, I have.”

“When?”

“I just told you this super long story about experimenting with the Fade and you weren’t covering your face.  Did I scream and run away?  No.  Do I still think you are the most beautiful thing the Maker has ever made?  Yes.”

She sighs.  “How do you do that?”

“Say all the right things?  Because I’m honest.  I speak what I truly believe. ” He lets go of her face and puts his hands in his lap.  “And I’m not going anywhere until we finish our conversation.  And I refuse to answer any more of your questions about my mood, until you stop covering your face.”

“Playing on my constant need to know what you’re thinking and how you are feeling?  Well played, ser.”  She sighs and slowly removes her hands from her face.  She continues to look down though and has head left side of her face turned away from him.  He takes off his gloves and places them on the bed.  He reaches up and turns her head to face him.  Her eyes are squeezed closed as he turns her face to examine it.  He smirks.  It’s not ugly.  In fact, he likes it.

He slowly loosens his grip on her face to see if she’ll move it.  When she doesn’t, he runs his finger delicately down her scar, much like she does.  She eyes open then.  “Does that hurt?”  She shakes her head.  “Good.”  He leans forward and kisses her forehead. 

“I still hate it.”

“It’ll take time.”  She flops back on the bed.  “What?”

“I’m back on the whole healing thing.”

“Ah.”

“Are you mad?  You’re mad, right?”  He sits forward on his hands and crawls up her.  He props himself up on all fours, his hands on either side of her head, hovering above her.

He laughs, “Mad?  No.  Jealous? You bet.”

She looks up at him.  “Jealous?  Of Dorian?”

“Not exactly.  He’s not into women.  We’ve talked about it.  In fact, I’m fairly certain he’s into me, but I digress.  It’s just… for a while there, I was the only person…

“Oh!  And to see another man touching me and seeing me…”

“Made me irrationally angry.  I suppose I should consider myself lucky that it was him and not Solas.” She bites her lip and turns her face away, scar up.  “What?  No.  You can’t be serious.”

She looks back at him, “I mean what was I supposed to do?  We were on the road and they needed to heal me.  They both said that the band was… hindering my progress.  At least Dorian was a gentlemen about it.”

He growls slightly, “What did that elf do?”

“Calm down.  He’s not into humans.  He just… sort of… pushed it out of the way.”  She is so red.

“Why are you so red?”

“Well…”

“Shea…”

She looks away from him again, “It’s super embarrassing.”

“What?”

“Well, you saw Dorian.  Trying to be all respectful of my… personal space.  Solas was in healing mode, didn’t even think that area might be… sensitive.  He just grabbed hold… and moved it out of the way… and I may have… made a noise.”

“A noise?”

“You are very familiar with that noise.”

“Oh… OH!”

“I was embarrassed.  Dorian was responsible for healing my side after that.  Then eventually I just asked him to take over fulltime.  Mainly because Solas started making fun of me.”

He is staring into her eyes as she blushes.  “I’m not mad.  And when you are all healed up, I plan on making you forget what happened.”  The bells rings.  They both groan.

She pushes him up.  “Every single time.”

“If we ever plan on doing anything, I’m unhooking that damn bell.  They’ll have a scale the walls or break down the door.”  She smiles and goes down the stairs to answer the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut on the way I promise!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> UPDATED July 22, 2018


	28. Cold Shower Tuesdays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D
> 
> *** time/pov shift

Shea summons a war council.  Once they’ve all gathered, she digs right in.  “Alright.  So, I really only want to have to say this once, because we all have other duties to attend to but this needs to be said.  When I accepted the position of Inquisitor, I suddenly became very aware of how much work you all do and how much more is required of me.  That said, because my private quarters are also my office, I need to set up some boundaries.  Rule one: If the door is unlocked, I am available for any reason.  It could also mean I’m wondering around Skyhold somewhere.  No need to ring the bell, just come on up.  Rule two: If the door is locked, I am _not_ available for _any_ reason.  Do _not_ ring the bell.  Rule three:  If a dire emergency arises and it’s something only I can solve or it’s not something that should not be considered lightly, and you find that my door is locked, then, and _only_ then, you can ring the bell.  Keyword here is dire.  If the matter can wait until morning, it is not dire.  Skyhold is actively on fire, Corypheus has come by for a visit, a dragon is attacking, a rift threatens to swallow Orlais whole.  These are all examples of dire emergencies.  Any questions?”

Josephine raises her hand, “What if you have an important visitor?”

“Is this person actively on fire and only the mark can put it out?”

“No, but…”

“Is this person above my rank, like a king or an empress?”

“Probably not.”

“Then schedule an appointment for another time and give me some warning.  Don’t ring the bell.”

Leliana smirks.  She finds Shea’s responses amusing.  “Let’s say a report arrives that you asked to see immediately arrives.”

“Only if that report has a time sensitive spell on it that will make the report unreadable if I don’t read it within a couple minutes and the ink only shows up if I’m personally looking at it, preventing it from being copied.  Seriously, you are all intelligent people and did just fine handling business on your own before I became Inquisitor.  I’m sure you can manage things on your own still.  Maker help anyone who rings that bell when it’s not an emergency.”

Cullen smiles, he knows the underlying reason for these rules and he approves whole heartedly.  “Understood.  Was there anything else?”

“Well, since we’re here, we might as well do some work.”

***

Night falls on Skyhold.  Shea is in her quarters reading a letter from Ostwick.

_Shea,_

_I am not sure how to respond to your letter.  My head is swimming with everything you said.  I am sorry to hear about Haven, but I’m glad you and the Inquisition have found a new home._

_Mostly, I am sorry to hear about Emeric.  I can’t help but blame myself for this.  I should have seen the change in him long before he left home.  If you hadn’t provided proof of his guilt, I wouldn’t have believed our brother was even capable of such a thing.  He played us all.  Still I appreciate you sending his ring._

_I have officially taken over as Bann.  Father is unfit to rule after all of our family secrets have come to light.  The practice of breeding templar spies ends with us.  Some traditions should still stand, but not that one.  My first act as Bann is to officially pledge my support of your Inquisition.  Though I’m not sure I believe this whole Herald of Andraste thing, I do support you as Inquisitor._

_Congratulations on your new position, by the way.  I always knew my little sister was destined for greatness.  Reports are pouring in about all the good you’ve done for Thedas and I am proud to call you sister._

_Father may have disowned you, but I haven’t.  So my second order of business is to restore your place in our family.  Since Emeric was not a pureblood Trevelyan and has tarnish the half that was, that makes you the second born.  If you ever decide to come home, you will have a place at my side._

_Once things have settled down, I would love to come see Skyhold.  I am told it is a sight to behold._

_I am proud of you, little sister.  You give new meaning to the family motto and I plan to follow your example._

_I love you, sis.  Please be safe and do try to have some fun.  Leadership can be trying and we all need some way to relax._

_Modest in temper, bold in deed._

_~Bann Brandon Trevelyan_

She lets out a sigh of relief.  She was really worried about how he would react to Emeric’s death and all the information revealed by his treachery.  She makes a mental note that she will need to pay him a visit once this is all over.  She hears footsteps on the stairs.  She folds up the letter and sticks it in a draw.  Cullen emerges from the stairwell carrying a tray of food.  She smiles and stands.

“How did you know I was getting hungry?”

“Because I haven’t seen you eat once today.”

She takes the tray from his hands and places it on the desk.  “Thank you.  You are very sweet.”  She hugs him.  “Speaking of gestures, I have something for you.”  She goes back to her desk and opens a drawer.  “Close your eyes.”  He smirks and does as he’s told.

“Should I be nervous about this?”

“Of course not!”  She places something in his hand.  “Ok.  Open.”

He looks into his hand and there’s a key in it.  “A key?”

“To the door.  No bell ringing for you.”

“Did you have this made?”

She laughs, “No.  I stole it from Josephine’s office.  It’ll take her a while to notice it’s missing.  The only people I want to be able to unlock that door are you and me.”

He runs his finger down her scar, “Thank you.”

“Speaking of the door.”  She runs down the stairs, locks the door, and runs back up.  “There.  No more interruptions.”

“Unless some magic report shows up.”

She smiles.  “Hey, it could happen.  You never know.”  She picks up the tray of food and sits on her bed.  She pats the spot across from her.  He sits and watches her eat.  She holds out a piece of cheese.  “Not hungry?”

“I’ve already eaten.”  He allows her to feed him anyway.  “Before I forget.  We’ve found an arcanist and she should arrive at Skyhold within the next few days.”

“That’s great!”

“She’s well regarded and uniquely skilled.  I think you’ll like her.”

“I’m sure I will.  Now, enough business talk.  This is supposed to be our time.”

He smiles, “You’re right.  Just hard to shut it off sometimes.  Do you have plans for the evening?”

“Maybe.  I do have one more surprise for you.  But I’ll let you figure out what it is on your own.”

“Why does _that_ worry me?”

“It shouldn’t.  It’s a good surprise.”  He watches her eat in silence.  There’s no pressure to fill it.  It’s a blissful silence.  She finishes her meal and gets up to put it on her desk.  A cold wind blows through the room.  She shivers and closes the doors to both balconies.  She smiles at him.  “I going to get more comfortable.  Feel free to do the same.”  She kisses his forehead and disappears behind a door next to her wardrobe.  He looks around for a place to put his armor.  His eyes land on the couch.  _That’ll work._   He came prepared.  He removes his armor.  Underneath it he is wearing his usual sleep clothes, loose fitting pants and shirt.  He lays his armor neatly on the couch.  He looks over at the door and becomes very curious as to what she’s doing in there.  Pushing it from his mind, confident he will find out soon enough, he sits on the bed with his back against the headboard.

The door creaks as she slowly opens it.  “Ok.  Close your eyes.”

“Another surprise?  You’re just full of them today.”  He closes his eyes.

“No peeking.”

He covers his eyes with his hands, “I promise.”

He can hear the soft foot falls of her bare feet on the stone.  Butterflies flutter in her stomach.  “Ok.  Open.”

He opens his eyes and inhales deeply.  “Sweet Maker.”  She stands at the foot of the bed playing with a strand of her long wavy hair.  She is wearing a floor length dress made of flowing white material.  The straps of the dress leave her shoulders bare and it cuts low in the front.  The way the moonlight and firelight are hitting her, the dress is slightly transparent.

“Like it?”

“Yes… I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”

She chuckles, “This isn’t a dress, silly.  This is what I normally sleep in.”

“Wait.  Those are nightclothes?”

“You act like you’ve never seen a woman in her nightclothes before.”

“I have, but they didn’t look like that.”  He moves to the end of the bed and holds out his hand to her.  She places her hand in his.  “You are breath taking.”  She blushes.  He runs his hand up her arm and runs his finger along the scar there.  She goes to cover it with her hand.  “Hey.  None of that.”

“Sorry.  I just…”

He stands and places his hand on the small of her back, pulling her close.  “You never have to hide from me.  You never need to worry about an imperfections.  Because I don’t see them.  You are perfect.”  He pushes her hair behind her ear and runs his thumb along her jawline in one fluid motion.  She places her hand on his chest feeling his heart beat.

He can’t wait any longer.  He pulls her tight against him.  She wraps her arms around his waist.  He place his hand under her ear and pulls her face closer to his.  Her warm breath brushes his face.  He takes a steadying breath and closes the distance.  He grabs the other side of her face.  Their faces less than a breath away.  He gazes into her eyes.  He licks his lips.  His lips brush hers.  She grabs the back of his shirt.

Finally after months of interruptions, he kisses her.  She instantly kisses back.  Her lips moving against his.  He threads his fingers into her hair grabbing the back of her head.  He licks her bottom lip and she opens her mouth.  Their kiss deepens.  His tongue moving against hers.  Her lungs burn for air, but she can’t bring herself to part from him.  Their lips part and he rests his forehead on hers. 

Her lips brush his as she talks, “That was…”  He kisses her again wrapping his arms around her waist.  She throws her arms around his neck.  She pushes her heels off the ground to stand on her tip toes, pushing her lips harder into his.  Their lips part again.  Both of them panting. She interlocks her fingers at the back of his neck.  Their foreheads pressed together.  Their lips are red and hot. 

They stay in that position as their breathing returns to normal.  Not content to just stand there, he kisses her lightly.  She pulls on the back of his neck, leaning into the kiss.  They part again.  She lowers her heels back onto the floor and rests her head on his chest.  He runs his fingers through her hair.

He wants her so bad. He aches to feel her skin press against his.  “I… wow.”

He chuckles.  “I’ve wanted to that for so long.”

“You’re so good at that.”

He laughs, “Thank you.  It was worth the wait.”

“I could kiss you all night and never get bored.”

“That can be arranged.”

She wraps her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him down her level.  She presses her lips against his.  There’s heat behind it.  The kiss is slow and intense.  He tightens his hold on her waist and straightens up, picking her up off the ground.  Her legs fly up around his waist locking around him.  He turns with her in his arm, their lips locked together.

He leans forward setting her on the bed, but never breaking his hold.  She pulls him down on top of her.  Their pulses are racing.  He releases his hold and stands at the edge of the bed.  He quickly removes his shirt.  She pulls him back down and continues making out with him.  She runs her fingers through his hair.  He kisses down her chin and presses his mouth hard against her neck.  He can feel her heartbeat beneath his lips.

She moans and gently pulls his hair.  He moans against her neck in response.  She pushes herself up to a seated position and he moves with her.  She tugs at her dress trying to get it off.  He takes her hands and pulls her up to stand.  He bunches the fabric of her dress in his hands, slowly making it rise up her legs.  He runs his hands up her legs, fingers grazing the scar on her thigh.  He continues to slide his hands up her body.  She lifts her arm above her head and he removes the dress, letting it fall to the floor.  He pulls her close and kisses her passionately.

She hooks her thumbs in the waistband at the back of his pants.  Taking her cue, he uses her hands to removes his pants.  He grabs her face and kisses her.  Both of them in nothing but their smallclothes.  He rubs her back.  He drags her hand around her rib cage.  She winces and pulls away from the kiss.  When she goes to kiss him again, he stops her.

He pushes her back to looks down at her.  “You should have that wrapped.”

“It would have gotten in the way.”  She tries to move closer but he holds her still.

“Shea.  You need to heal.”

“Oh Maker.  Cullen please don’t stop.  I’m…”

“Don’t say you’re fine.  I just hurt you.  And I barely touched it.”

“I don’t care.  I…”

“Shea.”  He takes her face into his hands.  “This will happen.  But not while you’re hurt.  Can we wait for that?”

“Ugh.  Fine.  But only because you asked nicely.”  She kisses him and goes back in the door next to the wardrobe.  She comes out with the bandage.  “Could you help me put this back on?”

“Of course.”  He helps her put the bandage back on.  He kisses her nose when he’s done.  “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“I’m too wound up to sleep.”

He sits on the bed and pulls her with him.  “Just come here.”  He kisses her and lays back.  She gets an idea.  She trails her fingers down his chest and stomach. She kisses his neck.  “What are you doing?”  She runs her finger along the firm bulge in his smallclothes.  “Shea.”

She nervous about what she’s about to do.  She’s not sure she’ll be any good at it.  This new territory for her.  She runs her fingers under his waist band.  She presses her palm flat against his stomach and slides her hand down the front of his underwear.  She feels the coarse curly hair and twirls it through between fingers.  She looks up at him.  His eyes are closed, his head resting on the pillow.  When he doesn’t move to stop her, she slides her hand further down.  Her heart pounds in her chest.

She trails her fingers up the length of him.  His skin hot and firm beneath them.  She tentatively wraps her fingers around him.  He moans softly.  She gives him a gentle squeeze, moving her hand up and down his length.  He takes her other hand and places it on his waistband, lifting his hips.  Her heart flutters, knowing what he wants.  She removes her hand from him and grabs the waistband at his hips.  Very slowly, she removes his last article of clothing.  Tossing them behind her into the floor, she sits on her knees between his.  Her eyes trace every plain of his muscular naked body.  His erection resting on a bed of hair that matches the curls on his head.  She blushes at her desire.  Feeling his eyes watch her examine him.

She runs her hands up his sculpted thighs.  Her fear melts away.  She’s not nervous anymore, she’s eager to please him.  She wraps her hand around him.  Moving her fist up and down his member.  The motion is slow and steady.  She watches his face to see if he likes it.  He moans and closes his eyes.  She broadens her strokes making sure her touches him from base to tip and back down again.

He bites his lip and a groan rises from deep in his chest.  His heart is racing, she can feel it pulse through him as her hand moves.  She tightens her grip and speeds up her movements.  His breaths become quick and shallow.   She doesn’t know what comes over her, maybe the confidence of making him moan for a change makes her bold.  Using her hand to support him, she runs her tongue under the underside of his member.  He gasps.  His eyes shoot open and look down at her.  Their eyes meet and she smiles at him.

She kisses his tip.  She wraps her fingers around him again, moving her fist up and down.  She runs her tongue around the head a few times before making eye contact with him again.  She teases him with her lips and tongue.  His moans let her know she’s doing something right as she has no idea what she’s doing.  She watches him as she continues licking and moving her hand.  She can see the need for more in his eyes.

She finally takes him into her mouth, gently sucking.  She runs her other hand up his stomach as she goes down on him.  He grabs her hand, lacing his finger with hers.  She’s feeling brave and sexy.  She moves more of him into her mouth until she can’t fit more of him in.  She continues sucking and licking.  He squeezes her hand and his body tenses.

A decision must be made and she’s not sure what the correct answer is.  Remembering when he bathed her, she recognizes the signs that he is close.  It won’t be long now.  She figures she’s gotten this far, might as well go for it.  Her movements intensify, more pressure and faster pace with both her hand and her mouth.  He inhales sharply.  She watches his face.  His eyes squeezed close, his mouth open.  His whole body tenses, the veins in his neck pooping out.  She keeps her mouth around him as he finishes.  He moans loudly.

Once he’s done, his body relaxes and he slowly opens his eyes to see her looking up at him.  She gives him a few more strokes.  Making sure to everything into her mouth.  She sits up and licks her lips.  He lets out a quick huff of air as she watches her swallow.  He leans up quickly grabbing her face.  He kisses her, tasting himself on her lips.  He flops back on the bed and sighs.  She crawls up him and lays on his chest.  He runs his fingers through her hair.  He is out of breath.

She smiles up at him and plays with his chest hair.  “Have fun?”

He nods. “That’s… one word for it.  What made you…?”

“I figured we were both wound up and you weren’t going to make a move, so I made one of my own.”

He laughs and brushes the hair from her face and kisses her.  “You’ve become bolder since… becoming Inquisitor.”

“I think it has more to do with almost dying.  It makes you realize that there’s more to life than just duty.  You need to really go for the things you want.”

“And what do you want?”

“I think that answer is pretty obvious.”  The bell rings.  She groans.  “You stay there.”  She gets up off the bed and goes over to the wardrobe.  She pulls out a purple silk robe and wraps it around herself.  She secures it closed and goes for the stairs.  She stops runs over to him and kisses him.  “Don’t go anywhere.”

She bounds down the stairs.  He climbs under the covers and lays back.  He sighs.  He can’t believe how happy he is.  She drove him crazy in all the best ways.  He can hear her voice drifting up the stairs and strains to listen.

“What is it?!  Do you have any idea what time it is?!”

A muffled voices responds.  Whatever they said cools her anger instantly.  He could hear the seriousness in her voice but not what she was saying.  The door slams and she comes running up the stairs.  She blows past him and goes into the room next to the wardrobe.

“What was that about?”

She tosses her Inquisitor uniform on the bed.  She grabs the pants and starts pulling them on.

“Shea?”

“It’s not a big deal.  Just stay there.”

He sits up.  “What’s going on?”

She sighs, “I have a visitor.  He’s here in secret and can’t stay long as he’s supposed to be somewhere else right now and definitely not at Skyhold.  I’m just going to talk to him and be right back.”

“Who is it?”

“The messenger didn’t say.”

He throws the covers off and goes to stand.  “Horse shit.  I coming with you.”  She pushes him back down.

“I promise to tell you everything once I return.  Please stay here.”

“I don’t like this.”

She grabs his face, running her thumb down his scar.  “I will be fine.”  She kisses him.  She finishes buttoning her shirt and pulls on her boots.  She sits next to him on the bed.  He sits up and runs fingers through her hair.  “Are you fixing my hair?”

He smirks, “Maybe.  If you won’t let me go with you, I can at least help you look presentable.”  She finishes lacing her boots and turns to face him.  He runs his finger down her scar.  “Be careful.  Keep your guard up.  Secret middle of the night meetings don’t always end well.”

She lifts the cuff of her shirt.  Strapped to her forearm is a small dagger.  “A gift from Leliana.  I shouldn’t need it for this, but I’ll be damned if I’m ever unarmed again.  I’ve got one on the other arm too.”

“That does make me feel better.”  He sighs.  “Alright.  I’ll stay here.  Where is this meeting taking place?”

She stands and pulls him with her.  She takes him over the closed balcony doors.  She presses her finger against the glass.  “There.  On the battlements.  You should be able to see us from here, but it will be impossible to make out our faces.  But if you need to watch me just to be sure I’m safe, that’s where I’ll be.”

He takes her face in his hands.  “Be safe.”  He kisses her long and hard.

She smiles, “Always.”  She smacks his bare ass and runs down the stairs.  Locking the door behind her.  He feels weird standing at the window completely naked.  Especially if there is danger near.  Not that he could do anything from the highest point in Skyhold if something did happen.  He watches the spot she indicated.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen and he is powerless to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> UPDATED July 22, 2018


	29. Past Lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift

Shea paces the battlements.  She could feel his eyes on her and it makes her nervous.  She has to stop herself from biting her nails.  She has not been completely honest with Cullen.  She’s never lied, she just omitted some things.  These secrets aren’t bad, but they also aren’t just hers to tell.  She is glad that he kept his distance from her.  Some things should stay hidden.

A hooded figure emerges from the shadows.  “Are we alone?”

“I’m sure there are eyes on us, but yes.  And if you put your back to that tall tower, those eyes might not see your face.”

The figure moves where she pointed.  “And this is private enough?”

She shakes her head, “Were you always this paranoid?”

“It’s hot in here.”  The figure throws the hood off his head and runs a gloved hand across his sweaty forehead.  He then runs fingers through his thick black hair.  “Nice castle, by the way.  It’s better than mine.”

She laughs, “It’s not yours anymore though is it?”

“That’s correct.  I was run out of Kirkwall, as you’re well aware.”

“So, Varric called you to Skyhold.  But why did you want to see me at this hour?”

“To catch up mostly.  We won’t have much time to talk about anything but business tomorrow.”

“Does he know you’re here yet?”

“Not yet.”  He makes her anxious, especially with Cullen watching.  She glances up to the window of her room and can make out his silhouette.  She smiles remembering how she left him.  “I hear you’ve been made Inquisitor.  Should I apologize or congratulate you?”

“Oh, ha ha.  Look at me.  I’m the Champion of Kirkwall.  I’m ever so clever.”

“I’m that as well as charming and strikingly handsome.”

“Always the modest one.”

“Another one of my fine attributes.  Speaking of fine attributes, I like your scar.  When did that happen?”

She pulls her hair forward to cover it.  “Haven.”

“Ah.  When you got a mountain dropped on you.”

“Varric tells you everything, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, he does.  Your hair is longer than I remember.”

“And your beard is longer than I remember.  We haven’t actually seen each other in years.  A lot has changed.”

He steps closer to her.  “So, these eyes on us.  How much can they actually see?”  She glances back to the window.  He turns his head to look over his shoulder.  “That is some distance away.”  He steps even closer to her.  He uses his taller, muscular frame to block her from view.  He moves her hair out of her face.  She looks away from him.

“How’s Fenris?”

“He’s fine.  Off on another murder spree, I imagine.  I think he’s actually in the Imperium right now.”

“And Bethany?”

“Also fine.  Am I making you uncomfortable?”  He moves even closer to her.  She backs away stepping into the shadows out of Cullen’s view.

“Hawke.  I…”  He grabs her face and kisses her.  She kisses back for a moment then pushes against him.  He stops kissing her.

“You’re stronger than I remember too.”  He walks towards her backing her into the wall.  He presses his palms on either side of her to the wall.  He leans in to kiss her again and she ducks under his arm.  She glances up at the window.  Cullen’s silhouette is gone.  _Shit.  Shit.  Where’d he go?_   Hawke grabs her hand and pulls her back into the shadows.  Her back is against the wall again.  She is freaking out.  Cullen could be headed this way.  She forgot how good of a kisser Hawke was.  Her body is responding to him the way it responds to Cullen and she doesn’t like it.

He leans in slowly, testing the waters.  When she doesn’t run, he grabs her face, kissing her roughly.  Her mouth instinctually moves against his.  He presses against her.  His beard tickling her face.  She pushes him away.  “I can’t.  This is wrong.”

“Didn’t feel wrong to me.  More like we were making up for lost time.”

“I’m with someone.  That’s whose eyes were on us.  He was worried that you might be trying to kill under cover of darkness.”

He steps back from her.  “Ah. I wish you had said that sooner.  Although, it didn’t feel like you wanted me to stop.”

“Look.  You’re with Fenris.  I’m with him.  That’s it.”

“I was with Fenris in Kirkwall too.  He knows about it, of course.  He doesn’t mind.  He knows where my heart lies.”

“I have to go.  You probably should go hide somewhere so you can make your grand entrance tomorrow.”

“Shea.”

“No.  I… I shouldn’t have encouraged you.  Good night, Hawke.”  She pushes away from the wall and flees.  He leans his back against the wall.  He wasn’t lying when he said Fenris didn’t care, that he knows where his heart lies.  The truth is it isn’t with Fenris, not completely.  He loves Fenris.  But he loves her more.  No one knew, expect Fenris.  Not even Varric, his best friend.  He sighs and pushes himself off the wall.  He pulls the hood over his head and looks for a way to sneak out of Skyhold.

***

Shea is halfway through the throne room when her door flies open.  Cullen comes charging out, his sword in his hand.  Her heart drops.  She just knows he saw the whole thing.  He is going to kill Hawke.  But then he sees her.  “Are you alright?  I thought that… person… was attacking you when you disappeared into the shadows.”

The shadows.  He didn’t see after all.  She sighs, “No.  He was being paranoid.  Kept feeling like he was being watched.”

“Oh.  Who was it?”

She takes a deep breath.  Truth or lie?  She has never been a good liar.  He’d see right through it.  But what else could she do?  She has hidden this part of her past from him.  Hawke is hiding it too.  It still isn’t just her secret to tell, especially not in the middle of a dimly lit throne room.  _Half-truths aren’t lies.  I bet I could manage that._   “A friend from Kirkwall.  I hadn’t responded to his last letter, so he was worried.”

He can tell she is hiding something, but instead of pressing the issue, he lets it go.  She is patient with him when he doesn’t want to talk about things, so he will do the same for her.  “Everything’s fine then?”

“Yep.  And didn’t I tell you to stay put?  I can handle myself.”

He smirks, “I didn’t even think.  I just leapt into action.”

She points to her door.  “Back upstairs.  And loose the clothes when you get there.  I wasn’t done looking at you.”  He rubs his neck and blushes.  He bows slightly to her and does as he’s instructed.  She squeezes the bridge of her nose.  This is a mess and she has no one to talk to about it.  It has been so long since she’s actually seen Hawke that she forgot how attractive he is.  And if she if the age difference between her and Cullen is bad, this one is worse.  It is true she doesn’t know their exact ages, but she knows how old they were when the Fifth Blight started and did the math.

She finds herself attracted to two very different men.  She knows who she’d choose if she is asked, but she would want all the information before making that choice.  If Cullen loves her, the choice is easy.  If he doesn’t and Hawke does, again, easy.  If they both love her and both fought for her, she has no idea what she’ll do.  Honestly, she thought Hawke would be over it by now.  They haven’t seen each other in years.

She shakes her head to push the thoughts from her head.  There is a naked man in her bed and it is rude to keep him waiting.  She goes in her door and locks it behind her.

He is standing at her window looking out of it.  Just the way she left him.  His back is to the room.  His perfect butt just waiting for her to grab it.  Which is exactly what she does.  She walks quietly up behind him and grabs hold with both hands.  He chuckles.

“Your ass is perfect.”  She kisses the spot between his shoulder blades.  She rests her forehead on his back and wraps her arms around his waist.  Then yawns.

He turns around and brushes his nose against hers.  “Tired?”

“It’s been a long night.”  He scoops her up in his arms and carries her to the bed.  She is instantly wound up again.  He sets her down and unlaces her boots.  “Don’t start something you won’t finish.”

He looks up at her, “This is doing it for you?”  She nods.  “That wasn’t my intention.”

“Well, I’m turned on, regardless of your intent.”  She pauses hearing her voice, “That sounded a lot harsher than it meant it to.”

“I understand.  You’re tired and I’m not exactly helping.”  He smirks at her.

She groans, “No, especially after earlier.”  He kisses her.

“Then maybe I should let prepare yourself for bed.”  He gets into the bed and pulls the covers over himself.  She goes into the room next to the wardrobe to change.  She needs to compose herself.  It’s not his fault that he is such a turn on.  It isn’t his fault that she allowed Hawke to kiss her.  She is mad at herself, not him.  She hangs up her clothes and takes a final moment to calm herself.

When she comes back in the room, Cullen is already dozing off.  She crawls in bed next to him.  He rolls onto to his side and holds out his arms for her.  She turns her back to him and backs into his embrace.  He nestles into the nape of her neck.  It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep.  She lays there in his arm gently stroking the hair on his arm.  She knows things are about to get complicated, as if she doesn’t have enough to worry about.  More ghosts from her past.  Why is it always the men in her life that make things hard for her?

She lets her mind drift and it starts to analyze her feelings.  She loves Cullen.  There is no doubt about that.  She is attracted to Hawke, but she isn’t a teenager anymore.  She thought it was a mistake to kiss him back in Kirkwall all those years ago, and it was an even bigger mistake now.  It isn’t fair to Hawke and especially not fair to Cullen for her to even have to debate this.  But she had technically lied to Hawke.  She said she was with Cullen and they never claimed exclusivity.  That talk is going to need to happen and sooner than she feels comfortable with.

She can’t decide if she is worried that labeling what they had is a good or a bad thing.  He is still so formal with her.  Even when they are alone.  It feels like his primary focus is the Inquisition.  Shouldn’t that be her primary focus too?  It won’t matter if she loves him if she lets the world fall to Corypheus.  She might not get a say in the matter.  Hawke might be good at keeping secrets, but he’s also one to gloat when the opportunity presents itself. 

She tries to reign in her thoughts.  She has another long day ahead of her.  A day which involves a meeting with Hawke.  Then probably a small mission to save Varric from Cassandra.  Finally sleep takes her, but it isn’t the restful night she is hoping for.

***

Shea is standing in the war room, leaning over the table, planning her next trip.  It is going to be a long one.  Lots of places to go before she’d be back to Skyhold.  She doesn’t hear the door open and close or see who entered.  Arms snake around her waist.  Lips press against the side of her neck.  But something is off.  Instead of light stubble, a thick beard rubs against her.  She turns in his arms leaning against the table.  He takes her face in his hands and passionately kisses her.  Their mouths move together, tongues exploring.  Her fingers weave into his shaggy black hair.  He backs her into the table. His hands grip her waist, pick her up, and set her on the table.  He goes from kissing her lips to her neck.  Her eyes are squeezed closed and she moans with pleasure.

She feels a second pair of lips on her neck.  Her eyes shoot open.  Cullen turns her to and making her stand to kiss her while Hawke kisses her neck.  _This isn’t right.  What’s happening?_   They both work to remove her shirt.  Her body is responding while her mind is screaming.  _Why is this happening?  This would never happen!_   She fights for control.  But they feel so nice pressed against her.  Maybe she should just give in.  They do not seem to mind that someone else is touching her, kissing her.  If they don’t mind, why should she?

Her senses are overloading.  Too many hands.  Too many lips.  They continue underdressing her on the war table.  Reports and markers going everywhere.  It will take hours to find where they all went.  She can’t focus on what’s going on around her.  Her eyes are closed and she can’t tell whose callused hand is whose.  Her skin is on fire.  She can’t breathe.  She feels like she is drowning in a sea of testosterone.  Before she knows it, she is naked and splayed on the table.  It’s like they are working in unison.  Kissing down her neck at the same time, working their way down.  She opens her eyes and her vision is filled with a mix of dark and light hair.  Her fingers tangled in each.  They tease her breasts with gloved hands.  They take a nipple in each of their mouths.

Shea sits bolt upright in bed with a gasp.  She is sweating and panting for breath.  She buries her face in her hands, her hair cascading around her.  She concentrates on her breathing, trying to calm herself.  She doesn’t know if it was a good dream or a nightmare.  The way she is reacting made it feel like a nightmare.  She flops back onto the bed.  She reaches next to her, her hand searching for him.  She’s alone.  Her hand finds a piece of paper.

 

_Shea,_

_I’m sorry I left without waking you.  You just looked so peaceful.  I won’t see you till late.  Taking some men to do some drills in the valley.  I’m not sure when we’ll get back, so don’t wait up._

_Cullen_

 

She groans and throws her arm over her face.  Why is this so hard?  She has handled so many things so much worse than this.  Maybe it’s because now it’s personal.  Another man from her personal life blending into the professional.  First her brother.  Now Hawke.  Then it dawns on her.  Cullen is that way too.  It’s never been separate.  Though he has tried to put a distance between the two.  She needs air.

She throws back the blanket and rushes to the balcony doors, throwing them open.  The cold mountain air hits her and she sighs.  She closes her eyes and lets her head fall back.  She breathes in deep.  She opens her eyes and looks down at Skyhold.  People are already moving around getting work done.  She supposes she should do the same.  She glances over to the spot she and Hawke met on the battlements.  Varric is standing there.  He is waiting for her, but that also means so is Hawke. She groans and turns from the window.

She really needs a friend.  Someone who she can completely confide in, who will keep her secrets and take her side.  Also probably smack some sense into her.  She quickly dresses for the day and returns her hair to its usual braided bun.  She double checks herself in the mirror.  “You are Inquisitor Trevelyan.  Not Shea.  Inquisitor.  Be professional.   You can do this.”  She takes a deep breath and lets it out before closing the wardrobe.  She then calmly walks down the stairs.  She is happy she isn’t going to see Cullen today.  A lump rises in her throat at the thought.  _That should be the last thing you think about the man you claim to love._

She stops with her hand on the door knob.  She feels more alone than she has since she woke up in the dungeon under Haven.  Who is this person she is becoming all from one kiss by an old friend?  It has to be more than that.  One kiss, or two, is not the end of the world.  “Get it together.  You’ve got work to do.”  She unlocks the door and pulls it open.  She takes a deep breath and steps out into the buzzing throne room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to post 3 today because they are so short. Let me know what you guys think of this twist!
> 
> UPDATED July 22, 2018


	30. Celebrity Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** Time/POV shift

Varric’s presence during her meeting with Hawke makes it easy to be professional.  It is supposed be her first time meeting him after all.  It scares her a little how easy it is.  After discussing his family, Corypheus, his effect on Grey Wardens, and the fact that Grey Wardens all over Southern Thedas are gone, she decides she needs to get things situated for her trip.  She figures he’ll meet her there, but mid-conversation he changes his mind.  He wants to travel with her group.  He says it is to spend time with Varric, but she has a feeling that isn’t the whole truth.  So, after their discussion, she heads to the war room.

She is walking up the main steps when he calls to her, “Inquisitor!  Hold a moment!”  Peoples’ eyes turn to watch as Hawke bounds up the stairs after her.  “I heard the Commander is out in the valley.”

“He is.”

“Well, as former Viscount of Kirkwall, I thought I’d offer my assistance in planning the trip to Crestwood.  I am the only one who knows where Stroud is.”

“I welcome your assistance.  War room’s this way.”

She leads him through the throne room.  She opens the first door that leads into Josephine’s office then reaches for the second.  His hand stops it from opening and he closes the first door behind him.  She is trapped in a small space with him.  “You’re very good at all this.”

Her heart races.  She takes a steadying breath.  “I’m good at a lot of things, ser.  You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Leading for one.  You’ve come a long way from the girl I met in Kirkwall.”

“Funny.  You haven’t changed at all.”

He smiles down at her, “Except my beard apparently.”

“Is there a particular reason you’ve trapped us in here?”

“I can think of a few.  But I just wanted to say something before people start vying for your attention again.”

She sighs.  She doesn’t like the direction this is heading.  Josephine is only steps away.  She was doing so well until this moment.  Her gut is telling her see doesn’t want to hear what he has to say.  So, instead of responding, she waits.  He leans down and places his lips against her ear.  She feels his warm breath against her neck and closes her eyes.  _Control yourself, Shea._

He whispers against her ear, “I would leave Fenris for you, if you asked.”  His kisses her cheek and opens the door.  She is stunned.  Rooted in place.  Hawke walks casually and starts chatting up Josephine.  She attempts to pull herself together.  _What was that?_   In the letters they have written back and worth over the years, he has never expressed interest.  She had assumed it was a passing fancy for both of them.  He loves Fenris.  He has told her that on multiple occasions.  She shakes her head, quickly pulling her Inquisitor mask back into place.  She leads the way to the war room with Hawke and Josephine laughing and chattering behind her.

The day is a blur after that.  Business to attend, people to meet, an armor fitting with Harritt and the arcanist, Dagna, who is a dwarf.  Which she is confused by as arcanists are trained in magical crafts but dwarves can’t use magic.  She is cheery, eager, and comes highly recommended, so it doesn’t bother her.  Her armor will be completely finished within the week and she can finally go outside Skyhold. 

At lunch, she locks herself in her tower.  She doesn’t even eat the food that is brought to her before she even got a chance to lock the door.  She just sits with her head on the desk.  This whole day is making her feel alone, overwhelmed, and like a child.  She’s not much older than a child, she reminds herself.  It seems like yesterday that she was going on her first trip out of Ostwick.  In fact, it was only four years ago.  How had so much changed in just four short years?

She starts making a list in her head about all the turning points in her life.  She soon realizes that only a handful were actually her choice.  If she really picked those choices apart, most if not all of them were motivated by what others told her was right.  She settles on a few things that were entirely her choice.  One: Allying with the mages instead of conscripting them, when everyone told her not to.  Two: Saving Moira from the streets of Kirkwall.  It is true that decision started with her being raised for a life of service, but she wasn’t supposed to bring home strays.  She fought for that.  Three: Fighting with a giant axe or sword, when her trainers begged her to us a sword and shield.  That is it.  Three choices that had no outside influence.  Three.

She feels like she is having a nervous breakdown.  Who is she really?  She is starting to feel like she doesn’t know anymore.  She looks to the people around her, she sees people making their own choices, being their own person.  Dorian left his home to fight for what he believes in, to make a better Tevinter, to fix it.  Even if that made him a pariah and people hated him.  Solas, an elven apostate, who taught himself how to use magic with a skill even the best trained mages couldn’t match.  Cassandra, a Seeker and Right Hand of the Divine, going against the Chantry because she is also fighting for what she thinks is right.  Even Sera, a friend of Red Jenny, doing her own thing and not caring what anyone thinks of her.

These are all examples of people who know who they were, on their own, and willing to do whatever they feel is right for them.  _The people who raise us have an influence on our lives, but they don’t get to decide how you should live your life.  It should be lived on your own terms_.  Shea doesn’t have that luxury.  She wouldn’t even be here if she had been taken for templar training instead of going to the conclave. 

And what has shaken her to the very core of her being?  A kiss, a moment of weakness regressing her into a sixteen year old girl.  She isn’t even sure she can call it a moment of infidelity as the man she spends almost every night with aren’t anything official.  For all she knows, they are just a way to pass the time.  A distraction from the horrors of the world.  Finding solace in the only place they could.

She is angry at herself.  She grabs the tray of food off the table and in a fit of rage tosses out the window and over the balcony.  A strand of hair falls in her face.  Another reminder of something that wasn’t her choice.  Her mother had styled her hair like this the day she started trained.  She then styled it the same way every single day.  She rips the pins from her hair letting the braid fall down her back.  The bell in her room starts ringing.  She pulls the dagger from her sleeve and runs over to it.  She grabs the rope it is attached to and cuts it.  The bell falls silent.  The rope twitches as whomever is ringing it continues pulling on it.

She looks down at the dagger in her hand.  It felt good to cut down that rope.  Cathartic.  She reaches back and pulls her braid forward.  Her hand tightens around the hilt of the dagger.  Loud banging is drifting up the stairs as someone starts banging on her door.  She slowly walks over the wardrobe and opens the door.  She stands looking at herself in the mirror.  Her eyes fall onto the dagger.  She runs her hand along her braid.  She grabs it firmly and pulls it tight.  It is time to make her own choices.  This is the first one.

She hears footsteps rushing up the stairs.  She doesn’t know how they got in.  It is now or never.  She brings the dagger up to her braid.  Someone rushes her as she slices it off above her shoulder. 

“Cub?  Are you alright?”  She looks down at the braid in her hand.  It some small way, she feels liberated.  She put the dagger back up her sleeve.  She shakes out the small part of her hair that is still braided.  Then runs her fingers through her hair.  Her hair, once long and flowing at the way down her back, now only brushes the top of her shoulders.  Varric walks up to her.  “Cub?”

She finally realizes she’s being spoken to.  She turns and sees a very worried Varric.  “Huh?  How did you get in here?”

“I picked the lock.”

“Why?”

“I was walking to the tavern when a tray food came raining from the sky.  Thought some kind of fight is going down, so here I am.  When the rope went limp and you didn’t answer the door, I picked the lock.”

“Oh.  Well… ok then.”  She closes the wardrobe and sits at her desk.  She places the severed braid one top of it.

“You want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

Varric waves his hand in front of her face.  “Hello in there.”

She bats his hand away, “I’m responding out loud right?”

“Shit.  You’ve gone off the deep end.”

“I’m not crazy, Varric.  Having a nervous breakdown, maybe.  But I’m not crazy.”

He leans against her desk.  “I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

She looks over at him.  She can’t talk about some of the things that are bothering her.  They were not just her secrets and he would be upset that Hawke is hiding something from him.  Something fairly serious it seems.  “I wish I could.”

“Ok.  Can’t talk about the details, then summarize.”

“It’s not easy to put into words.  The gist is… for twenty years, choices have been made for me and I can think of three I made on my own.  So,” she motions to the braid, “I added another one.”

Varric sighs, “I can tell you from personal experience that you really should find someone to talk about this stuff with.  I’ve got Hawke.  Maybe Curly…”

“No.  That’s… probably not a good idea.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

She shakes her head.  “No. I don’t know.  My brain hurts right now.”  She lays her head down on the desk.

“Well, be careful throwing things out your window.  From this height it could kill someone.”

She groans, “I should have thought of that.  Sorry.”

“A few of us are getting together for drinks.  You’re welcome to join.  We might even get in a few rounds of Wicked Grace.”

“Thanks Varric.”

“Want me to lock the door on my way out?”

“Yeah.  Probably for the best.”

Varric leaves.  She knows he means well and that he is worried, but he is good at seeing when something is pointless.  She isn’t going to talk so why bother sticking around.  She appreciates his offer to join him, but Hawke would be there too.  In her current state, that wouldn’t be good.  She leans back in her chair and runs her finger through her hair.

She knows she should probably get back to work.  Though she is running out of things to do in Skyhold.  She wants to be back in the field.  To be away from all the eyes scrutinizing her every action.  To let the thrill of battle clear her mind.  She sighs, wishing again for someone to talk to.  Keeping all this stuff in isn’t helping her.  Who could keep secrets and be supportive, take _her_ side?

She’d have to think of that later.  She stands from the desk and heads down the stairs.  She unlocks it and ignores the people who turn to stare at her as she passes.  She walks up to Josephine’s desk.  “So, I need someone to fix the bell in my room.”  Josephine looks up from her papers and gasps.

“What happened to your hair?”

“I wanted a change.”

“I like it, but it needs some help.  I could get someone to trim it up for you, make it so the edges aren’t all jagged.”

“That’s be great.  Daggers aren’t made for cutting hair after all.”

“I’ll send someone to your room in an hour, if that works for you.”

“That’s perfect.”

“Also, I’m having your bath installed this afternoon.  Took forever to find one that would work.  I’m having it put in the little room by the stairs.  And since your room is so high up, we can have a mage fill it whenever you want.”

“Thank you, Josie.”

She nods and goes back to her papers.  Shea doesn’t know what to do with herself.  She checks on things in the war room and there’s nothing new.  With nothing else to do, she goes back to her room to wait for whomever is coming to fix her hair.

***

Her hair is clean and trimmed.  She really likes it.  Her head feels lighter and if she throws it up in a ponytail it won’t get in the way during battle.  She officially has nothing to do.  For the first time in months, there is no task she can do.  She groans remembering Varric’s offer.  Well, it is something to do.  But she shouldn’t go as the Inquisitor. She opens the wardrobe and flips through the things inside.  She approaches it much like she approached picking out her Inquisitor uniform.  What should what she wears say about her?  It would help if she knew who she was, but she pushes that thought away.  She’d been down that rabbit hole once today and that was enough.

The only thing she can think of are a list of titles.  Inquisitor.  Herald of Andraste.  Lady Trevelyan.  Templar Recruit.  Warrior.  Andrastian.  ”This is pointless.  I need help.”  A spark goes off in her brain.  She leaves the wardrobe door open and runs door the stairs.  She emerges in the throne room and tries to walk quickly and calmly through it.  She waves at Solas, who is painting in the rotunda, as she passes him.  He does a double take when he sees her hair, but doesn’t say anything.  She takes the stairs two at a time.

He is exactly where she hoped he would be.  Sitting in his high back chair, legs crossed, and reading.  “Dorian!”

He looks up and snaps his book closed.  “What have you done?”

“What?  Don’t like it?”

“Like it?  Darling, I love it!  What spurred the change?”

“Uh… can we talk about that… in private?  Too many ears here.  _And_ as the most fashionable person I know, I need your help.”

“Oh you do know how to flatter me.  Lead the way.”  He follows her to her room.  She locks the door behind them.  He picks her braid up off the desk.  “Were you planning on keeping this?”

She laughs, “No.  I just don’t know what to do with it.”

“Have your maid dispose of it, of course.”  He drops it and faces her.  “First order of business.”  He sits in her desk chair.  “What has been going on with you?”

“We’re… friends, right?”

“Honestly?  You might be my only friend.  My best friend.”

She smiles, “Good.  You’re mine too.”

“How marvelously sad of us.”

“Which means everything I say to you stays between us?’

“Naturally.”

“Well, buckle up.  I’m about to unload on you.  I should start by saying I’m in the middle of a nervous breakdown.  And it all started with a kiss…”

She proceeds to tell him everything she’s freaking out about.  He lets her rant until she’s done.

“My, my.  You have been holding a lot in.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Let me make sure I’ve got everything.  You have feelings for Cullen and now renewed interest in Hawke.  Your whole life was planned out for you, I can sympathize, and you feel as though you haven’t made any decisions for yourself.  Furthermore, you don’t know who you are outside your titles, again I know what that’s like.”

“That pretty much sums it up.”

“Sit down.  I need to remind your poor mind of somethings before giving you my advice.”

She sits on her bed and pulls her knees to her chest.  A small pain sticks her side in protest, reminding her that she has to get that healed up before leaving.  She already feels lighter having just unloaded on Dorian.  It is also nice to see that he can take things seriously with a touch of humor thrown in the mix.

“You are young.  In fact, you are the youngest of the inner circle, yet you lead us.  This should say something about who you are as a person.  Don’t look at the actions themselves, or the events that circumstance has thrown you in.  Close your eyes and take yourself back to when we met.”

She closes her eyes, listening to his voice dance through the air.  It is both calming and entertaining.  She could listen to him for hours.  She is never more confident in her choice of confidante.  Add another choice she made to the list.  “That was a crazy day.”

“I told you a lot of unbelievable things that day.  Yet you stood there and listened.  You had other options, potentially easier options.  You had a family investment in those options. Yet _you_ chose to help me and the mages.  Now why was that I wonder?  Was that some up bringing or so called programming?”

She shakes her head.  “No.  That’s why I consider it one of the choices I made.”

“Ah!  You just changed what you said earlier.  You said your choice was allying with them, but now you’re saying the choice was helping them in general.  An action that was motivated by your own reason and not that of others.”

“I trust this is going somewhere.”

“Think back a little further now.  You’re in a dungeon below Haven, chained to the floor like an animal.  A stern, angry woman is yelling at you, threatening to kill you.  Did you have any concern for yourself when you learned of the Breach?”

“No.  Because I was brought up to help people.”

“Wrong.  The way you were raised may have had an impact on your life, but, tossing the fear of death, aside you leapt at the chance to help, even willing to sacrifice yourself to do it.  Which is not the only time you’ve done that, by the way.”

“Haven.”

“And my final trip down memory lane, you have Bull to thank for this one.  He speaks of it often.  It was your first meeting after all.”

“When I recruited the Chargers on the Storm Coast?”

“Right, but that’s not the main thing he remembers about that day.  Do you know that he hasn’t accepted a single coin from Josephine to pay for their services?”

“What?  But they are mercenaries.”

“I’ll be paying for this later, I assure you.  The moment he decided he’d follow you anywhere happened before the two of you even spoke.”

“You’re going to have to give me more than that.  A lot has happened since them.”

“Do you remember that battle?  Venatori all over the beach.  Seeing that hulking horned beast for the first time.”  He drifts off in thought.  She snaps in front of his face.  “Sorry.  I was enjoying the picture I was painting for you a little more than I should.  He saw you, without hesitation, block a powerful magic attack with your body to protect someone else.  Someone he later learned you hated.”

“Oh.  That.”

“You weren’t trained for that.  You were still green when it came to magic and their effects.  But you charged in anyway.  Now why was that?”

She sighs.  “I… it was the right thing to do.”

“But not the easy thing or even the smart thing.  She wouldn’t have done the same for you.  Most people wouldn’t.  That speaks to who you are more than you might think.  So, my advice to you is to reexamine the events since the conclave through that lens.  What your instincts told you to do.  You’ve revealed more about yourself in those moments than you give yourself credit for.”

“I… You’re right.  But that still leaves a fairly large problem.”

“Ah, yes.  Men.  Well, as painful as it might be.  You need to distance yourself from them.  You can still be friends with them, I’m not suggesting you cut them out completely.  That’s not fair to you or them.  Just stop with the romancing until you know what you actually want.  Lust can often be confused for love.  You are a smart woman.  You have a good heart and even better instincts.  Let those guide you.”

“You make that sound easy.”

“Oh I’m not saying it will be.  But you need to put that little separation in there or you won’t be able to process your feelings clearly.  The plus side is that you have the power in this situation.  They’re the ones who gave it to you.  I don’t know Hawke enough to judge how he’ll react to you forcing distance, but if you talk to Cullen, I think he’ll understand.”

“He already seems to be putting a wedge between us.”

“That’s probably not because he wants to though.  He… You didn’t see how he was right after Haven.  I think this distance he’s placing is more for his own protection.  Though I’m sure he’ll claim it’s for yours.  He knows that he has to send you back into danger.  It eats at him.”

“Did he say that?”

“Not in so many words.  The loss he felt at Haven, before you came limping up the mountain, was too much for him.  Adding distance now will make it less painful in the event he loses you again.  Or so he would have himself believe.”

“I guess I need to have a sit down with him.”

“Yes, but all that can wait.  You need to have some fun.”  He stands up and flips through the clothes in her wardrobe.  “Now then.  My _real_ area of expertise.  If I understand correctly, you want to define yourself.  Distance yourself from all those pesky titles.  To be Shea.”

“I don’t even know how to do that yet.”

“Then allow me to illustrate my thoughts of you.”  He continues flipping through the clothes.  “Who picked these things?  They are either impossibly dull or way too flashy.  And that’s saying something coming from me.  Hmm… how do you feel about dresses?”

“I don’t know.  I’ve worn them all my life.”

“Hmm… then maybe a twist on that.  You are a feminine creature and we can use that to your advantage.  Something that gives off strength yet softness.  I’ve got it!”  He starts tossing things onto the bed.  “Alright, let’s get that wound on her ribs healed, otherwise that corset is going to hurt.”

With her final scar in its place, he starts handing her things to put on.  She feels a little weird just standing there being dressed by him, especially since the first thing he hands her isn’t a breast band.  He hands her a pair of black tights.  “Now this look is a mix between the fashions of my homeland and that of your own.  So, reserve judgement until I’m finished.”  She takes off the rest of her Inquisitor garb and puts on everything she is handed.  When he finally stops handing her things, she is wearing a white long sleeved shirt that shows her shoulders, a blue and gold corset with thick straps that go around her neck, a lacy black skirt that is long in the back and to her knees in the front, and finally black heeled boots that lace up to her knee. 

He stands back examining his handy work.  “Hmm… it’s missing something.”  He paws through the wardrobe again.  He pulls out a small black leather belt and wraps it around her thigh.  “Hand me one of your daggers, darling.”  She picks the dagger and its sheath off the bed and hands it to him.  He threads the belt through the loop on the sheath then tightens the belt, securing the dagger to her leg.  “I know how you like to be armed at all times.  But there’s still something missing.”  He goes back to the wardrobe and she looks down at herself.  She touches her chest and sighs.  “What is it?”

“I… I lost a necklace at some point during the attack on Haven.  It means a lot to me.  I just wish I had it.”

He looks over at her.  “What did it look like?”

“It’s a white carved halla with silver markings on a thin silver chain.”  He turns his attention back to the wardrobe and pulls out a tiny wooden box.

“I wonder what’s in here.”  He hands it to her.  She slowly opens it.  At the very top is a note.

 

_S_

_I knew how much you’d miss this.  So I kept it safe._

_C_

 

Underneath the note is her necklace.  There’s not a smudge of dirt or blood in sight.  She takes a sharp breath and sits down on the bed.  “He must have found it.  Why didn’t he tell me?”

“Maybe he forgot.”

“This is too important to me just to forget.”

“Then that’s something you’ll have to ask him.  The good news is a necklace is just what you need.”  He reaches into the box and gently lifts the necklace from it.  She lifts her hair to let him put in on her.  “Well go take a look.  If you don’t like it, we’ll need to find something else.  This is your big debut after all.”

“They’ve all seen me before.”

“No they haven’t.  They have seen the survivor, the Herald, the Inquisitor.  But they have never seen Shea.”  He pulls her to her feet and stands her in front of the mirror.  She looks like an adult.  For the first time in her life she feels and looks like an adult.  Though the corset makes her breasts look huge, the shirt covers them.  The embroidery on the corset is delicate and swirling.  But no flowers.  The pattern reminds her of something she can’t put her finger on.  This is also her first time really looking at her new haircut.  She didn’t know her hair actually had a gentle curl and not just a wave.  With the length gone, it has stopped weighing down those curls.  The ends brush her shoulders.

“Well?  Don’t keep me in suspense.  Do you feel like I’ve captured you?”

“I look like a grown up.”

He laughs, “You are a grown up, darling.”

“You really see me like this?”

“You are an exquisite creature.  If I was at all interested… well, we would not be going out to cause trouble as trouble would find us right here.”  She blushes.  “Oh!  I can’t wait to see their faces!”  She adjusts her hair pulling it from behind her ears.  “Whoa!  What are you doing?”

“Covering the scar.”

He stands behind her, meeting her eyes in the mirror.  “Shea.  Hiding your scars is like hiding apart of yourself.  You earned them.  They are a symbol that you stood and fought when nothing but death waited for you.  When people see this scar,” he pushes her hair behind her ear, “they see the woman who saved them all, but it also reminds them, that you are still a person who can bleed.  These scars make you more you, if that makes sense.”

She sighs and shakes her, “Fine.  But I still think it’s ugly.”

”I challenge anyone to think that about you.  Especially after I’ve worked my…” he lifts hands.

“Don’t do it.”

He smiles, “Magic.”  He wiggles his fingers through the air in an arc. They both laugh and he grabs her hand.  “Come on.  I want to see their jaws hit the floor.”  And he pulls her down the stairs behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> UPDATED July 22, 2018


	31. Alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Shea's new look pay off?

Dorian enters the tavern.  Varric, Blackwall, Sera, Bull, and Hawke are gathered around a table laughing and drinking.  At another table are Casandra and Cullen having dinner with a couple of pints in front of them.  “Didn’t wait for me I see?”

“Sparkler!  Fashionably late as always!”  Dorian rounds the table and stands next to Hawke.

“Make room, Champion.”  Choosing to sit there forces Hawke to face the door.  Bull slides a drink over to Dorian.  “Oh no.  I’m not falling for this one again.”

Bull laughs, “It’s Ferelden ale.  Your favorite.”  Dorian scoffs but drinks it.

Varric starts telling a story about some misadventure he and Hawke had in Kirkwall, when Hawke chokes on his drink.  “Maker’s breath.”

“What?”

He just points and they all turn.  Shea has just entered the tavern.  With all these eyes on her, she feels self-conscious.  She makes eye contact with Dorian, who winks and motions for her to come over.  Sera is the first one to break the silence, “Holy shite!  When did you get hot?”  This causes everyone to laugh.

She smirks, “Oh, this ol’ thing?  Pfft.”

“Glad you could join us, your Inquisitorialness.”

She chuckles, “The Inquisitor has taken the night off.  I’m just Shea tonight.”  They all cheer which catches Cullen’s attention.  He looks over and his jaw hits the table.

“Commander, what were you saying just now?”  Cassandra looks up from her plate.  She sees the look on his face and follows his gaze. 

“She cut her hair.”  He shakes his head to clear the fog, “I’m sorry.  What was I saying?”

“Just go over there.  I know you want to.”

“We… she cut her hair…”

Cassandra picks up her drink and goes to join the group.  She’s still mad at Varric, but they look to be having fun so she might as well join them.  “And the Seeker graces us with her presence.”

“Do not make me regret this, dwarf.”

Shea has forgotten how much fun it is to be around her friends.  She gets handed a drink.  She doesn’t even care who it’s from.  She wants to have a carefree evening, even if that means breaking her Iron Bull drinking rules.  Cullen sits by himself staring at her.  She sits down next to Varric and across from Hawke.  She wants to face this head on.  No shying away from it just because it’s awkward.

She takes a few drinks and laughs at someone’s joke.  She touches the halla around her neck and looks around the tavern.  Her eyes meet his, catching him in his stare.  She smiles at him.  His warm honey eyes shining back at her.

He is caught and he knows it.  He thought she was beautiful before, but now something is different.  She had once said that all her clothes were borrowed, except her armor.  Maybe that is it.  She smiles at him, her sparkling blue eyes staring into his.  She raises a finger and motions him to come over and join them.  He grabs his drink and walks across the tavern.  “Is there room for one more?”

They all cheer.  “Commander!  It’s been ages since you had a drink with us!”  Varric scoots over making room next to Shea.  He sits and he smiles over at her.

“I see you found the necklace.”         

“I did.  Why didn’t you tell me you found it?”

“I planned on it tonight.  It took forever to get clean.”

“You… cleaned it?”  He nods and takes a drink.  “Thank you.”

Hawke’s eyes narrow as he watches them softly talk to each other.  This is who she is with?  Not on his watch.  “So, Cullen!  How have things been for you since leaving Kirkwall?”

He pulls his eyes away from Shea and focuses on Hawke.  “Better.  Leaving the templars was for the best.”

Hawke smirks, “My sister sends her regards.”

“Why would she…”  _Oh shit.  He’s going to talk about her in front of Shea._

Hawke takes a drink, “She said she was worried.  She hasn’t heard from you sense you left.”

Shea looks between them.  She knew Cullen knew Bethany, protected her while she was in the Circle at Kirkwall, but Hawke seems to be implying something more is going on.

“Should I remind you that she was pissed at me for leaving?  I believe her words were, ‘I never want to speak to you again.’  I respected her wishes.”

Yep.  Definitely more history there then she even realized.  As she glances between them, Hawke’s smirk catches her eye.  He is doing this on purpose.  “Is this really the time or place to be airing dirty laundry?  You’re being a buzzkill, Hawke.”

Cullen sighs.  She can read him so well.  He really doesn’t want to talk about this, at least not in front of every one.  He sees Hawke’s eyes narrow at him.  Is he really that upset about this?

“You’re right, Shea.  It’s clear the Commander has moved on from my sister anyway.”

She hears Cullen growl quietly.  She puts a hand on his knee to steady him.  If Hawke wants to play dirty, two can play at that game.  “Tell me, Hawke.  How would you know that our Commander has moved on?  You’ve only been here a few hours and he’s been training troops all day?”

“I have my sources.”

“Do you now?  Well, that’s news to me.  Who might this mole be?  If they are sniffing around the Commander’s personal life, than that could be a danger to the Inquisition and I can’t have that.”

She winks at Dorian who is holding in his laughter, sending him over the edge.  Hawke is red.  She knows he won’t say how he knows with an audience, not unless he wants to reveal to Varric that he knows her.  “Just an observation, Inquisitor, nothing more.”

She removes her hand from Cullen’s knee and takes a drink.  They slip into an unsteady calm.  Laughing and drinking.  She keeps seeing Hawke glare at Cullen.  She knows the reason, but she doesn’t think Cullen does.  She isn’t even sure Cullen sees the glares.  She is going to need to have words with both of them and soon.  Before this turns into a war.

She is laughing with Cassandra when she hears something that makes her blood chill.  “Varric, now that I’m sufficiently lubricated, I have something to tell you.  But you have to promise not to be mad at me.” _Shit!  No!_ She spins around.  Hawke has sandwiched Varric between him and Cullen.  _Distraction!  I need a distraction and fast!_  

She blurts out the first thing she could think of, “Wicked Grace!”  Cheers go up, effectively cutting Hawke off.

She plops herself across from Varric next to Bull.  She wants to watch them both to make sure they behave.  Cards are dealt, bets are made.  So far so good.  Just a friendly game.  As it goes on, she starts getting the feeling that someone of planning something.  She’s low on coin now and has no interest in betting her clothes.  Sera, Cassandra, and Blackwall all drop out at the same time.  She looks at her hand, her gut is telling her that whatever is being planned will happen the moment she drops out.

Iron Bull slams his cards on the table, dropping out.  Then someone raises the bet higher than the amount of coin she has.  _Shit._   She sets her cards down, “I’m… out.”

When the grin spreads across Hawke’s face, she groans.  _I fucking knew it._   “Alright, gents.  Let’s make this a little more interesting.  Instead of betting our shirts, let’s play for a prize.”  Shea narrows her eyes at him, which only makes his smile larger.  “Whomever wins the pot, not only gets the coin, but they get to kiss the Inquisitor.”

“Hey!  I’m out.  You can’t involve in your bets.”

Varric chuckles, “As bet keeper, I’ll allow it.  I wasn’t looking forward to seeing naked losers.”

Cullen cheeks redden.  He used to like Hawke.   “Works for me.”  Her eyes shoot over to Cullen.  He smirks and she glares at him.  She surveys the table.  Varric will be out soon.  Hawke and Cullen are neck in neck.  Dorian, however, is winning.  _Oh, I would love for this to blow up in both of their faces._   _How do I help him win?_   _I know.  Distraction._   The one man she wants to win will be the only one not distracted by her efforts.  But what to do exactly?  Time to get help.

The game continues and she leans over to Iron Bull.  “Hey.  How funny would it be if Cullen and Hawke lost to Dorian?”

He laughs, “Ohhoho!  That would be hilarious!”

“Great!  How do we do it?  I’m thinking womanly distraction.”

He nods.  “Good one.  That’s real easy from where you’re seated too.  Just lean forward, should be enough.  I’ll keep thinking just in case.”

She stretches her arms above her head.  Then shakes out her hair.  Dorian hides his face in his cards catching onto what she’s going.  She then leans forward on the table.  Her breasts threatening to escape the corset.  She makes eye contact with Hawke first and bites her lip.  Shivers go up his spine and he bets an outrageous amount of coin.  That Cullen matches it.  Varric looks up at her, he laughs and sets his cards down.  “This should be good.  I’m out.”

She shifts her eye contact to Cullen.  She runs the finger down her neck, his favorite spot.  He rubs his neck and places another high bet.  Hawke matches.  Half their remaining coin is gone.  They both curse out loud when Dorian wins the hand.  Varric deals the next hand.  She glances over at Dorian who shake his head.  _Bad hand.  Keep distracting them, but don’t lose Dorian too much money_.  She has their attention, so eye contact is not required.  She looks over at Bull and mouths ‘bad hand.’  He nods.  He loudly starts telling a story about one of his Charger missions.  Dorian rolls his eyes, he’s heard this one before.  Somehow he wins again.  Their coin is low and when a smile touches Dorian’s eyes behind his cards, she knows this will be the last hand.

She continues leaning forward shifting her gaze between them.  It Hawke’s turn to bet.  While he’s thinking, Shea runs her foot up his leg.  He shoves all his coin forward.  “Let’s end this.”

Cullen growls.  He has a bad hand.  There is no way he’ll win, but he shoves his coin in anyway, hoping Hawke will fold.  Dorian matches the bet with loads of coin to spare.

Varric clears his throat, “Alright.  Moment of truth boys.  Hawke.”  He lays his cards down.  A decent hand, but it could be easily be beat.  “Curly.”  He slams his cards on the table, defeated.  “Sparkler.”

“I believe this game is mine, gents.”  With a flourish, he fans his cards on the table.  Hawke curses under his breath.  Cullen and Hawke look at each other as she smirks at them both and leans back in her chair.  They realize they’ve been played.  Dorian pushes back from the table and saunters over to Shea.  He holds out his hand to help her up.  He looks over to the sulking men.  “I take no pleasure in this victory, but a bet is a bet.”  Everyone is laughing except Cullen and Hawke, of course.

She stands up from the table, aided by Dorian.  She wobbles slightly.  The drinks going to her head.  He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her in close.  He leans in close and she grabs his arms.  He threads his fingers in her hair and supports the back of head.  He dips her in a dramatic fashion and plants a kiss on her lips.  It isn’t a long one, because they both start laughing.  He almost drops her as he laughs, but she helps him to stand so he can let go of her.

Sera jumps up on the table, “You should see your faces!”  She snorts and points at them.  Then teeters and Bull catches her before she hits the floor.  Dorian gathers his winnings and puts them in a bag.  She sits back down in front of them.

“Aw, come on!  Cheer up!  It’s all good fun.  No need to be sore about it.”

Hawke and Cullen exchange glances.  She doesn’t like the glint in their eyes.  “Oh, I think we’ll get our revenge soon enough.”

Cullen stands, “I should turn in.  I have a thousand things to do in the morning.” 

She stands, “Hey wait.  I actually needed to talk to you about something.” 

“You’re a little drunk, is this really the best time?”

She shrugs, “I dunno.  Seems like as good a time as any.”

“Alright.   Where to?”

She scratches her head.  Her room seems like a bad idea, especially after the stunt she just pulled.  This is a serious matter and she doesn’t want distractions.  “Uh.  We could go up there.”  She points to the battlements.

“Alright.  Seems like a strange place to talk privately.”

She waves goodbye to everyone and Cullen follows her up the stairs.  The cool mountain air helps clear her head.  She leans forward against the wall and takes a deep breath.  He leans his back on the wall next to her and crosses his arms.  He waits.  She straightens and backs up to stand opposite him.  “Ok.  So to preface this, I have done a lot of thinking today.  Analyzing my life.  And it occurs to me, that I don’t really know who I am outside of my titles.  I don’t really know what choices are mine or driven by family stuff or obligations.  Thus the hair.  I chopped it off because my hair was a choice my mother made for me ages ago.”

He has no idea where this is headed and it worries him.  “I…”

“Let me finish while I’m brave enough to do so.  What I’m about to say might make you mad.  And you’d have every right to be.  Also, this a secret and you can’t tell anyone.  The person I met up here last night was Hawke.”

“Hawke?  But why…”

She presses her finger against his lips.  “No questions.  I’ve known Hawke for years.  You’re friends.  Long distance ones, but friends nevertheless.  I met him on my trip to Kirkwall.  Varric doesn’t know, which is the main reason for the secrecy.”

“I know you said no questions.  But I have to ask.  Why are you telling me this?”

“Well…”  She toes the ground and runs her fingers long the faint glow of her mark.  “He… I… We had a small thing in Kirkwall.”

“Define small thing.  Because I recall you told me you’ve never had been in a relationship or had a lover.  So unless that was a lie…”

She looks up at him and steps closer, “I never lied!  Both those things are still true.  We mostly flirted.  I met him at the Hanged Man.  I hung out down there helping people.  He bought me a drink.  I didn’t even know who he was until later.  But by then, we’d…”

“What?”

“We made out a few times.  It wasn’t a big deal.  Just a bit of fun and then we became friends.  It was a stupid teenage fling.  Nothing more.”

He stiffens, “Did you just say teenage?”

She pulls at ends of her hair.  “Uh.  Yes.  So, maybe this wasn’t the best idea right now.”  She goes to leave and he blocks her.

“How old were you when you were in Kirkwall?”

“I feel like you’re going to be mad.  And I haven’t even gotten to the worst part yet.”

“Please answer me.”

She sighs, “I was sixteen when I went to Kirkwall.”

“Oh Maker.”  He braces himself on the wall.

“It’s not that bad!  Nobles get married off at that age and start popping out kids.  And my age never bothered you before!”

“You’re twenty?”  She nods.  “I’m not mad that you’re young.  I knew you were young.  I just… I don’t know.  I feel old now.”

“You are not old.  Hawke’s older than you anyway.  Though I suppose that doesn’t make our making out in Kirkwall any better.  Still that’s not the point of this.  I needed to tell you something important.  That’s all just context.”

“Ok.  Continue then.”

She sighs, “Hawke kissed last night and I kissed him back.  I don’t know why.  It just happened.  I told him I was with someone, but during my thinking today… I’m not even sure that I am.”

His chest tightens.  He has to focus on his breathing to keep himself steady.  He feels something bubbling below the surface and it makes him uneasy.  “What are you trying to say?”

“I… I care about you Cullen.  I really do.  You know that.  At least I hope you do.  But… I find myself having a bit of a crisis.  It has me questioning everything in my life.  I don’t know what to do.  So…”

“You think we should stop…”

“Not stop.  No!  I need you in my life.  Even if we’re just friends for now.  But I need to be alone with myself.  To figure out what I really want.  This is the first day I have ever felt like an adult.  And I can see the pain building.”

“Does hearing this hurt?  Yes.  Should I be surprised this is happening?  No.  I’ve been pushing you away for a while now.  It doesn’t help matters that we’ve kept whatever we are secret and we haven’t committed to anything.  So, I… understand.  I’ve… had to find out who I am.  I still am.”

“Cullen. I’m sorry.  I…”

“It’s my turn.”  He steps closer to her and takes her hands.  “If you need to figure out who you are on your own, I can respect that.  I won’t pretend that I wish I could help you, but I know that this is something that has to be done on your own.  You know where to find me if you need help with anything.”

“I… thank you.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need go punch the Champion of Kirkwall in the face.”  She grabs his arm.

“You can’t.  Secret remember.” He grumbles and turns back to her.  “You’re ok.  Right?  You can be honest.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m glad one of us is.”  He meets her eyes.  This is actually hard for her. 

“Shea… if… this isn’t what you want, why don’t you say so?”

She sighs, “That’s the problem.  I don’t know.  I’ve got conflicting signals going off in my brain.  One saying just to end it completely, you’d be better off, the Inquisition would be better off.  Just focus on work and fixing the world and pushing personal needs and desires aside until that’s done.  But people can’t live like that.  Just going through the day to day, one foot in front of the other.  Nothing to live for except the needs of others.  Then part of my wants to be selfish, to be able to have both of you and no one gets hurt.  But that’s also not how life works, and I’m not even sure that’s what I want.  I need to slow way down, and just really think on this.”

“I know exactly what you mean.  This is something I’ve been struggling with since day one.  I’ll give you all the time you need.”

“You’re too good for me.  You’re taking this way better than I thought you would.”

“It’s hard to be understanding.  Anger and hurt are easy.  But I truly believe, no matter the pain I feel, that this is what you need.  So I will give it to you.  But the second, you want to try this again.  I’ll be waiting.”  He gives her a quick kiss on the forehead and leaves her standing there.  She regrets this instantly.  Seeing the pain in his eyes tears her heart open.  Watching him flee from her is all she needed to realize that choosing him isn’t even a choice.  It is a requirement.  She feels hallow and it is all her fault.  She gave him the out he was looking for.  Permission to install his permanent mask of professionalism.

She sinks to the ground up on the battlements and hugs her knees to her chest.  “What have I done?”

“Did you do something?”

Her head snaps up.  Hawke has found her.  “Shit.  How did you find me?”

“I followed you.  I… heard the whole thing.”

She groans, “Great.  Well, I’m sorry.”

“You said some stuff that got me thinking.”  He sits down next to her.  “I don’t know what my fascination with you is.  I love Fenris.  I’m _in_ love with Fenris.  I was in love with him when we kissed in the Hanged Man.  Maybe I just miss him and you feel forbidden now.  I don’t know.  But it was wrong of me to add more problems to your plate full of crap.”

“So, you’re not going to run around trying to kiss me?”

He laughs, “No.  That whole tavern display was to get back at him.  He broke my sister’s heart.”

“I didn’t even know they were together.”

“Not many people did.  Circle relationships are expressly forbidden, but if he hadn’t been there she’d be dead like everyone else.  Though on the flipside, their relationship put her at risk for being made tranquil, but that’s a risk they took knowingly.  I also know how private he is.  I shouldn’t have just put it out there like that.”

She shrugs, “Well, at least I know one of the women he’s been with now.  I’m not sure he was ever going to tell me.”

“Who knows?  But don’t beat yourself up about all this.  We all go through phases of self-discovery.  Even the Inquisitor.  Have you even had time to process all of this?”

“Not really.  I process better on the road.  Once my new armor is complete, we’ll be ready to go.  I’m all healed up from Haven now.”

“Good.  I hate to keep Shroud waiting.”  He stands, “I should get back.”  He holds out his hands and she takes it.  He pulls her up.  “I’m officially pulling my hat out of the ring, just so we’re clear.”

“Yeah.  I got that.”

“Night.” He bounds do the stairs headed back to the tavern.

 _Well, at least you killed two birds with one stone._   She sighs and shivers.  This new look of hers isn’t very warm.  She needs to look into cloak options.  A window lights up out of the corner of her eye.  She turns to look.  It’s the window in the tower Cullen said he was going to use for his office.  She takes a step in that direct and stops.  _No.  Leave him be.  You’ve hurt him enough for one night._   She walks back towards her room.  Josephine catches her attention in the throne room.

“Inquisitor!  I wanted you to know that the bell has been fixed and your bath has been installed.”

“Oh!  Could you have someone get it ready for me?”

“Certainly.  You look fantastic, by the way!”

“Thank you, Ambassador.  The door will be unlocked for whomever you send.”

They bow slightly to each other.  Shea goes into her room and sits at the desk.  She’s looking forward to having a calming bath.  And if she locks the door and unhooks the bell again, she’s can guarantee no interruptions.

The mage comes in with a handful of flowers. “Inquisitor.  I’ve come to prepare your bath.  Master Pavus wanted me to include these flowers in the water.  He said it was good for the nerves.”

“Thank you….”

“Coral.”

“Thank you, Coral.  It’s through there I believe.”  The young mage opens the door next to the stairs and prepares the bath.

“It’s ready, Inquisitor.  Is there anything else you require?”

“No that’ll be all thank you, Coral.”  She bows her head and goes back down the stairs.  Shea follows behind her and locks the door.  On her way back up, she disconnects the bell.  She hangs up all of her clothes and pulls out her nightclothes.  She lies the dress on her bed and goes into the small room to enjoy a steamy and relaxing bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please share your thoughts! I adore reading them!
> 
> And as always, thanks for reading!
> 
> UPDATED July 22, 2018


	32. Dangerous Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift

Her head is pounding when she wakes the next morning.  The sunlight is streaming through her open balcony doors, blinding her.  She throws her arm over her eyes and groans.

“Rough night?”

She gasps and sits bolt upright in bed.  She sees Cullen sitting at her desk.  She groans again and falls back on her pillow, covering her face with her arm again. She hears him chuckle.

“Fun night.  Rough morning.”

She feels him sit on the bed.  “Here.  I brought you some water.”

She groans and slowly sits up.  She opens one eyes and takes the water.  She downs it quickly enjoying the coolness that runs through her body.  “Thanks.”

“I… uh… I let myself in… I… I hope that’s ok.”

She blinks at him.  It’s been a long time since he’s stumbled over his words like that.  Then realization hits her groggy brain.  She groans again, “Oh no.  I… It’s fine… uh… how much of last night actually happened?  I’m really afraid you’re going to say all of it.”

“Are you referring to our… talk?”

She groans and flops back on the bed.  “Can you please forget I said anything?  Because I really shouldn’t have.”

Cullen can’t allow himself to hope.  There was truth in her words last night and he happens to again with them.  He meant everything he said too.  She needs time, they both need time, to figure out what they want in life.  Their focus should be on getting the Inquisition formally off the ground and putting a stop to Corypheus.  He reaches over to her and gently removes her arm from her face.  He takes her hand in his, running his fingers along the mark in her palm. 

“Yes, I remember.  It… I...” He sighs.  “I’ll say to what I said last night.  I understand the need, your need, to figure out who you are and what you want.  I have something to come to terms with as well.  I still care about you.  I always will.  I’m also still your friend.  So, I’m here whenever you need me.  As both your friend and your Commander.”

“I regretted it immediately.  Distance from you is not what I want.”

“But it is what you need.  For now.”

She sits up and places her hand over his.  “I need you to know that Hawke won’t be a problem anymore.”

“Good.”

“I also need you to know that I...”

He sighs, “I didn’t come here this morning to discuss last night.  Let’s just set that aside for now.  I have some news that I figured you’d want me to deliver in private.”  He stands and walks over to her desk.  He opens a book she doesn’t recognize and pulls a piece of paper from it.  “Our scouts finally found Moira.”

“Is she ok?”

“Yes.  She’s fine.  From the lengthy letter she sent me, she’s great in fact.  She also wrote you a letter.  I’m sure it explains everything you need to know.  But if you have questions, I’ll attempt to answer them. “

He holds out the paper to her.  It’s folded but not in an envelope.  “When did this come?”

“The scouts arrived very early this morning.”

“Did you read it?”

“No, it was attached to the one she wrote me.  And even if I wanted to read it, I can’t.  She wrote it in elven.”

She smiles and unfolds the letter.  While she reads, Cullen goes to stand on the balcony, to give her privacy.

 

_My friend,_

_I’m sorry for taking so long to get word to you and your Commander.  Trying to copy your family’s ledger while on the run, was not exactly easy.  But I managed.  I had it bound and snuck the original back into your house.  Brandon seems to be ruling well.  Though I didn’t stay to chat.  I’m not sure he’d be happy to see me as it’s partially my fault that Emeric was… executed._

_I’m outside Wycome now with a group of Dalish.  They’ve welcomed me into their clan.  I’m actually in the process of earning my Vallaslin.  Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan is trying to fast track my training since I’ve missed so much.  If all goes well, I should have it in a few months.  I’m beyond excited._

_There’s something I’ve been keeping from you.  Not because I don’t trust you, I think you know by now that you will always have my trust.  I kept it from you for your protection as well as my own.  You remember what I told you about how we Dalish organize ourselves?  Well, if you’ll recall I told you magic is dying out among our people and for that reason Dalish mages are cherished and rare.  What I’m trying to say is… I’m a mage.  I have been since I was very young.  I was destined to be my clans first when I came of age._

_Clan Lavellan lost their first at the conclave.  I’ve found a home here.  For that reason, I told Keeper Deshanna that I am a mage and now I’m to become her first.  I have accepted under one big condition, which the clan has accepted.  Clan Lavellan stands with the Inquisition.  We will do what we can to help you in the Free Marches.  We have a rocky relationship with Wycome and the Keeper has already sent some reports for you to look over.  This clan is so different from my old one.  They actively trade with human cities and are respected by the common folk._

_The best news to me about all of this is that once I have been formally made First of Clan Lavellan, I will be travelling with some of hunters to Skyhold as ambassador.  If the Inquisitor accepts, that is.  I hear she’s a very smart and reasonable person, so I’m certain she will accept._

_For the record, I want to say, that I really like Cullen.  I haven’t even met him yet, but he has been nothing but helpful.  He seems to care about you a great deal.  I can’t wait to see him so I can interrogate him for myself._

_I’ve included more formal details about my mission and the arrangements that I’ll need to travel to Skyhold to your Commander.  If you have questions about any of that ask him as I didn’t feel like writing all of that down again._

_See you in a few months if all goes well,_

_Moira Lavellan_

_Side note:  That was strange to actually write out._

Shea wipes a tear from her cheek.  Moira is coming to Skyhold.  She’s found a clan.  She has no idea how she’s been able to hide that she is a mage, especially in Kirkwall, but she isn’t upset about it.  Cullen walks over and sits on the bed.

“Are you alright?”  He wipes another tear from her cheek with his gloved hand.

“I’m fantastic!  Did she mention that she’s coming to Skyhold in your letter?  Did she tell you she found a clan?  What did yours say?”

He laughs.  “I left it in the book.  Which I don’t recommend diving into just yet.  The reports from Keeper Lavellan seem rather urgent.”

“Then meeting in the war room.”  She falls back on the bed, “as soon as I can see straight.”

He pulls on her hand, “Come on, Inquisitor.  Duty calls.”

She groans, “Sometimes I just want to give duty the finger.” She throws off the blankets.  She goes over to wardrobe.  She looks over her shoulder at him, “So… you just going to sit there and watch me change or…”

He blushes and rubs his neck, “Right.  I’ll… just… see you in the war room.”

She smirks at him.  He smirks back and turns to leave.  He goes over to the bell and reconnects it.  She turns her attention back to the wardrobe.  He takes a final look at herself before descending the stairs.

***

Her mood has never been better.  It feels like things are finally starting to become manageable and good news just keeps coming.  Dagna and Harritt apparently make a great team.  Her armor is finished days ahead of schedule.  She will be able to go out and handle business whenever she is ready.  Of course, that meant being gone a long time.  A lot of urgent things require her attention and she wants to hit the ground running.  She has everything ready to go, she just has to decide when.

The only negative thing she could think of is how things are going with Cullen.  Their professional lives are perfect.  Their knowledge of how the other operates makes their work together efficient.  The distance between them personally is growing though.  The impending travel plans and her drunken, but honest words have driven a huge wedge between them.  Occasionally, she’ll see flashes of Cullen behind the Commander’s eyes, especially when she shamelessly flirts with him.  He’ll blush and stammer, but that is it.

The whole thing is driving her crazy.  She might not know who she is outside work and duty, but she knows she doesn’t like who she is without him.  All work and no play, as they say.  She takes to spending her nights at the tavern.  Not really drinking, but just being around people.  The actions feel hallow and she hates the idea of him sitting alone in his tower, up to his eyes in troop movements and reports.

Shea goes to the undercroft to retrieve her sparkling new armor.  Harritt is polishing a piece of it when she walks in.  Dagna skips over to her holding the folded leather parts.  “Inquisitor!  We’re so glad you’re here!  This is probably the best work either of us have ever done!”  Shea takes the pieces from Dagna with a smile.  “I set up a little area right over there for you to change.  That way you don’t to keep running up and down all of those stairs.”

“Thank you, Dagna.”  She goes behind the little partition that she has step up.  Though the forge is open to the mountains, it is very warm down there.  So, there is no discomfort from being nearly naked down there.  She puts on the dark red leather pants and shirt, then laces up the dark brown boots.  She steps out from behind the screen and walks over to where Harritt and Dagna are laying the pieces out.

“Wow.  That’s a lot of parts.”

“You wanted full but lightweight protection.  This is how we had to do it.  Uh… since there are so many, I’ll skip the technical terms again.  If you really want to know, we can discuss it at a later date.”  He sets his hand next to the first set of pieces.  “You’ll need to start from the bottom up.  The leg pieces are all connected.  You snap the calves on like your old breastplate and strap the rest.”  Harritt talks her through the best way to put on her new armor.

She looks and feels like a badass.  No one else would be able to wear this suit of armor.  It fits her like a glove.  Only hints of the deep red leather peek through the brushed silver of her armor, under her arms, between her thighs, and the tiniest sliver down her side.  Rich dark brown leather straps hold the armor in place.  Wanting to be practical, the breastplate is flat.  But she still wants to feel and look like a powerful woman, so the polished accents swirl on the front and it has two skirts, a short one made of chainmail under a split skirt made of lightweight black cloth that leaves her legs completely free.  Her dark brown gloves don’t have any armor attached to them.  She’s worried about ranged of motion and when she tried the armored gloves on, it felt like she couldn’t fully grip her axe.  As before, she opts for no helmet.

She desperately wants to see what she looks like, but has plans to make a dramatic exit when she leaves Skyhold, and running to her room in full armor, would spoil that.  She thanks them profusely.  They are both smiling.  They are proud of the work they’ve done, as well they should be. 

“Oh, Inquisitor.  We have on more thing for you.”  Harritt goes to grab a large item wrapped in cloth from the weapon rack.  “We actually had quite a bit of ore left over and Dagna wanted to toy with some enchantments.”

“We made you a new axe!”

Harritt unwraps the gigantic battle axe.  There are runes etching along the grip.  “How do I activate it?”

“Just pick it up!  As soon as you come in contact with the grip, the lyrium that’s worked into the metal responds to the runes and the magic travels up the haft and into the blades.”

Shea slowly picks up the axe.  At her touch, a bright yellowish green light emanates for the axe head.  “What does the rune do?”

“Well, this rune is made for demons and anything undead.  Makes them easier to kill.”

“I should be seeing a lot of those based of the reports coming out of Crestwood.  I can’t wait to try it out.”

They help her pack up her armor and promise to have it delivered to her room along with her new axe.  She changes back into her uniform and leaves the undercroft.  It is time to stop dragging her feet and really focus on her travel plans.  It will be sometime before she returns to Skyhold, unless something major happens that makes her come back to discuss it in person, she plans on spending a couple months in the field.

The biggest loose end being left by her long departure is who is going to run Skyhold while she is gone.  She knows exactly who to ask.  Cassandra is reading when Shea approaches, Varric’s most recent romance novel, an advanced copy to be exact.  “You know, for someone who is embarrassed to like Swords and Shields, you sure do read it a lot in public.”

Cassandra jumps and nearly drops the book.  “There is work to be done.  I can’t just lock myself away for hours on end just to read.”

“Well, you could, but you wouldn’t be able to hide for long.”

“True.  What can I do for you, Inquisitor?”

She holds out a report, a request for help, out to Cassandra.  She takes it begins reading.  “I’ve included the advisors’ advice as to how I should proceed and I’ve actually already made my mind up on the matter.”

“Then why are you showing this to me?”

“If you were in my shoes, how would you handle this?  I’m not sure if this condition changes things, but you can also answer how you think _I_ would handle this?”

Cassandra studies the report carefully.  “Hmm… This is difficult.  Time sensitive, but also must be handled delicately.  Our hand shouldn’t be seen assisting as it might draw attention to the problem and we need more information.  I would follow Leliana’s advice.  Send one of her people in to observe and report back.”

“Thank you.  That’s exactly what I chose.  I have… an assignment for you.”

“An assignment?”

“Yes.  As you know, I’m prepping to leave for Crestwood soon, but there is much to be done outside Skyhold.  I plan on this being a very lengthy trip.  However, more remote problems or problems I don’t need to see to personally, still need attention.  I trust my advisors, but they will bicker like old women if left to their own devices.  You know how I would respond to an issue, or at the very least our motivations and goals are so similar, that the way you would respond is very similar to mine.”

“I think that’s why we get along so well.”

“Indeed.  Here’s what I’m purposing.  I would like to make you Seneschal of Skyhold.  The Inquisition needs someone to manage it while its leader is gone.  This would mainly give you the authority to act on my behalf at war council meetings and give the advisors more time to do their actual jobs, while you see to the day to day in Skyhold.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Does that sound like something you’d want?”

Cassandra stands up from her stool.  “I would be honored.”

“Great!”  Shea extends her hand.  Cassandra takes it and they shake.  “I’ll inform the war council at the meeting tonight.  You may go back to reading now.  You start in the morning.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor.”

“No.  Thank you.  This is more for my own peace of mind than anything else.  Just don’t try to kill anyone while I’m gone.”

Cassandra smiles, “I can’t make any promises.  Especially if you leave Varric behind.”  They both laugh.

“I’m travelling with Hawke.  Varric wouldn’t stay behind even if I ordered him too.”

Cassandra looks down at her book for a moment then back at Shea.  “Could I ask you something personal?”

Shea sighs.  She’s pretty sure she knows where this is going.  “You can ask.  I’m not sure if I’ll answer.”

“I can’t help but notice that you and… the Commander have been very… distant since you arrived at Skyhold.  Did something happen?”

“I don’t really… you know what.  Maybe I should get your advice on this.  Dorian was no help at all.  Care to discuss this over drinks?”  Shea motions for Cassandra to follow her.  She picks up her book and tucks it under her arm.  They go into the tavern, order a couple of pints, and find a secluded table.  Shea takes a drink from her pint.  “Ok.  I’m not even sure where to start.  Things were going so well before… then we sort of drifted.  It started in that mountain pass and only got worse when I became Inquisitor.  I know he struggles with being professional and all… but… then I did something really stupid.”

“Which was?”

“A number of things.  Overthinking everything, taking Dorian’s advice, and then drinking.  I gave him permission to pull away completely.  In my post nervous breakdown state, I thought it’s what we needed to do.  But it’s not.”

“When did you have a nervous breakdown?”

She motions to her new haircut.  “I’m sort of in the middle of an identity crisis.  I felt… feel like I don’t really know who I am.  After all the shit with my family and then people not looking at me like an actual person anymore, it all just sort of… messed with my head.  I thought that I needed time to find myself.  I still do, but… I told him that we needed to…”

“You gave him an out and he took it?”

“Exactly.  I regretted it instantly, but he won’t budge.  I miss him.  I might not know who I am outside of all these titles, but I know that I need him.  Not the Commander, but him.  So, I let work distract me, like he does.  But I feel alone.  I never felt alone when he was around.”

“Maybe you should tell him that.”

“I don’t know how.  How do you take those words back?  How do you… I’ve tried to tell him I didn’t mean it.  But at the time I did.  And he knows it.  It might be easier to just… I don’t know… move on?  Keep our relationship professional, like he’s always wanted…”

“Let me stop you.  I don’t think you ruined anything.  Everything is still there, but he’s protecting himself more than he is protecting you.  I saw him after Haven.  He broke.  He got a taste of what being permanently without you felt like.  To save himself the pain of having to send you back into danger and then potentially lose you again, he’s been fighting to keep you at arm’s length.  To not allow you to get close to him again.  I don’t think he could do it again.”

“How do you know all that?”

“We’re friends.  That and the things he said to Dorian when he thought you were dead.  I honestly don’t think he’s gotten over his grief, even though you survived.”

Shea takes a sip from her cup.  “I guess I knew that.  In some way, at least.  Combine that with having that talk about taking a break with him after telling me about him not taking lyrium the night before and it only gave him more cause for separation.  I’m completely out to sea with all this.”

“You say you don’t know who you are?  How can that not be clear?  Titles aside, all of your actions are your own.  Even if you were raised a certain way, that doesn’t mean those lessons aren’t a part of who you are.  You are your own person.  I think deep down, you know that it’s not that you don’t know who you are, it’s that you are afraid of losing the things you’ve fought so hard for.  Especially after Haven.  Haven changed all of us, maybe especially you.  I believe that you know who you are, but you are letting the fear of being vulnerable prevent you from going after what you really want.”

Shea lets that sink in.  Cassandra is right, so is Dorian for that matter, she knows who she is.  Or who she is becoming as an adult.  Coming into her own.  Her heart knows what it wants.  It always has.  She let the stress and pressure change her in a negative way.  She is determined to get him back.  “You are right.  So, what do I do?  How do I get him back?”

“I’m not an expert on this, but if you talk to him, he’ll listen.  It will take time, but eventually, he’ll come around.”

Shea downs her drink.  “Well, I leave in the morning, so I’d better get started.  Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.  I’m a sucker for romance.  I want details later.”

Shea stands and rushes out the tavern.  She is on a mission.  She goes to his office.  Not there.  She goes to the war room.  Not there.  She sees Jim walking the grounds.

“Jim!  It is Jim, right?”

He salutes her.  “Yes, Inquisitor.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know where the Commander is would you?”

“He’s playing chess with Master Pavus in the Garden.”

“Thank you.”  She quickly walks away.  When she arrives to the garden, Cullen and Dorian are smiling and talking.

Cullen smirks at Dorian, “Gloat all you like, but I have this one.”

“Are you sassing me, Commander?  I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Cullen sees her approach and starts to stand, “Inquisitor?”

Dorian claps his hands together, “You’re leaving?  Does this mean I win?

Cullen sits down and looks between them.  Shea crosses her arms and smirks, “Please.  Don’t stop on my account.”

Cullen gets all serious and turns back to the board, “It’s your move.”

Dorian reaches forward, “You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory.  You’ll feel much better.”  He moves a piece on the board.

Shea catches the tiny smirk on Cullen’s face.  “Really?”  He moves a piece on the board, “Because I just won.  And I feel fine.”

Dorian throws up his hands to stop him from saying anything else.  “Don’t get smug.  There will be no living with you.”  He gets up and leaves, winking at Shea as he passes her.

Cullen turns to stand, “I should return to my duties as well.”

“Oh, I think not.”

“Do you want to play?”

“Set it up.”  Shea sits across from him as he quietly resets the pieces.  “Didn’t you say you used to play this with your sister?”

“Yes.  She’d get his stuck up grin whenever she won.  Which was all the time.  My brother and I practiced to together for weeks.  I still remember the look on her face the day I finally won.”

“Have you written them?  You said you were going to?”

“I’ve been very busy…”

She moves a piece on the board, “You can spare five minutes.  Maybe even less than that.  Just a hello.  I’m not dead.  I live in a giant castle on top of a mountain now.  That sort of thing.”

“Have you written your brother?”

“Yes.  Actually.  I’m just waiting for his response.”

“As his sister or as the Inquisitor?”

“A little of both actually.”  He moves a piece on the board.  He doesn’t say anything else.  _Alright, Shea. Just don’t talk about anything to do with work, and you’ll be fine._ They play in silence for a while.  It isn’t an uncomfortable one, just focused.  She hesitates before making her next move.  She leans back in her chair and crosses her legs.  “So, I take it with all that practice, you expect to beat me?”

He smirks, “Moving troops into strategic positions is my life’s work.  This is no different.”

“Then… would you care to up the stakes a little?”

He looks up at her.  “Are you purposing a wager, Inquisitor?”

She smirks at him and folds her hands in her lap.  “Maybe I am.  Is that a problem?”

He leans forward.  “And what might this wager be?”

“Well, I’m not sure what you would want as your prize for winning, but I know what I would want.”

Her favorite smirk finally makes an appearance, “And what might that be?”

“Hmm… I’m curious if mine will be compatible to whatever you might purpose.  However, since I am the challenger, I’ll go first.  If… when I win, you have to have dinner with me.  In private.  Without armor.”

Cullen thinks for a moment.  What should his prize be?  He really likes what she said.  He can’t say that, but he has to come up with something.  Maybe something to mess with her a little.  “Alright.  And if I win, I get to use her quarters for the night and you get to sleep in mine.”

“Um… ok.  Not much of a prize, but I can accept those terms.”

“I didn’t say what I’d be doing in your quarters, now did I?”

She smirks, “Oh I see.  Planning on a little alone time with Dorian?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Game on, Commander.”  She makes her move.  She’s a little worried about losing now.  Not that she doesn’t want to be around his stuff and smelling it.  But he seems serious about using her room for unsavory means.  He is also competitive.  She really wants to win.

They play in silence again.  But it’s not the comfortable silence that fell upon them before.  It’s charged, intense.  Their moves are calculating.  Cullen starts to worry after a while that he might actually win.  His competitive nature won’t just let her win.  As he studies the board, he catches a smirk on her face.  She grabs a piece and moves it into place.

“I do believe that game is mine.”

He studies the board and then sits back in his chair.  “So, it is.”

“Then I will see you in my quarters after sundown?”

“That was our agreement, so yes.”

“Well, don’t sound too happy about it.”

“I’m sorry.  It’s been a long time since I’ve lost.”

“Are you a sore loser, Commander?”

He smirks at her, “Possibly.”

She stands and he rises with her.  “Well, I have preparations to make.  Remember.  No armor.”

“As you wish.”  He bows slightly to her and she returns it.  She turns on her heel and heads for the kitchen.  He looks up at the sky, it’s already getting dark.  He goes to his tower to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you think my take on the chess match!
> 
> UPDATED July 22, 2018


	33. Come Back to Me

Shea paces her room.  She has changed out of her uniform.  She is now wearing her off the shoulder white shirt, black boots, a purple skirt, and a purple corset with silver accents. She has dragged her couch and a small table in front of the fireplace.  A platter of lamb and vegetables, a bowl of grapes and strawberries, and a bottle of wine with glasses sits on the table.  She picks to grape from the bowl and nibbles on it nervously.  She honestly has no idea why she is nervous, just that she is.

She hears her door open and her heart leaps into her throat.  She hears it close and then lock.  She looks around the room trying to decide where she should be when he comes up the stairs.  She decides to sit on the couch with her back to the room.  She hears is footsteps getting closer.  She fights to calm herself.

He crests the top of the stairs and sees her sitting on the couch in front of the fire.  He smiles.  She’s not wearing her uniform.  Which means he’s having dinner with Shea and not the Inquisitor.  He places his hands on the back of the couch and leans in close.  “You look lovely.”

She turns in her seat.  He is wearing a black shirt, which is different, and it’s not laced up completely.  With him leaning over she can see his chest.  She looks into his warm honey eyes and smiles.  “Thank.  Is… uh… that new?”

He smirks, “Yes.  Thought I’d wear something other than white or cream for once.”  He comes around to sit on the couch.  He is wearing a pair of tight gray breeches and black boots.

“This is very different than I’m used to seeing you.”

“I still haven’t gotten used to your new haircut.  I like it, but I miss the long hair.”

She tucks some of the hair behind her ear and smiles, “Hungry?”

“I could eat.”

They fall into a comfortable silence as she pours them both some wine.  She hands him a glass, “Cheers.”  They clink their glasses together and take a sip.  They both set the glasses down.

“That’s…”

“Terrible.  That’s the last time I ask that dwarf in the tavern for wine.”

He spears a piece of lamb with a fork and pops it in his mouth.  “Well, at least the meat is good.”

“Small wonders, I guess.”  He spears another piece and offers it to her.  She goes to take the fork and he moves her hand.  She smiles and opens her mouth.  He feeds it to her.  Her lips close over the fork and he slides it out.  “You’re right.  That is good.”

They eat in silence and take turns feeding each other.  She looks over at him and giggles.  “What?”

“You’ve got a little something…”  She scoots closer to him.  “Allow me.”  She quickly debates if she should lick the strawberry juice from under his lip or just wipe it away.  _Boldness_.  She places her hand on his cheek and leans in.  She feels him hesitate at her touch, then he leans closer to her.  In her boldness, she forgets why she even leaned in.  His warm breath brushes her face.  His face so close to hers.  She brushes her lips against his.  Their breaths mixing together. 

He doesn’t move to close the distance.  He wants to, but this is her night.  She planned it.  He’s going to let her make the moves.  She licks her lips and her tongue lightly brushes his lower lip.  She tastes the strawberry on his lips and can’t take it anymore.  She quickly closes the distance and mashes her mouth into his.  Their lips move together.  She locks her hands around the back of his neck, pulling him even closer to her.  He warps his arms around her waist.

She pulls back slightly, pausing to catch her breath.  Their eyes open.  The oceans of her eyes meeting the sunlight of his.  She sees his desire.  She feels the desire rising in her too.  She goes to kiss him again and he stops her.

“What?”

“I… we…”  He sighs.  “I… need…”  He growls, “This shouldn’t be this hard.”

She backs away from him to get a better look at his face.  “You know you can tell me anything, Cullen.”

He stands and walks over to the fire.  He watches a log crackle inside before he speaks.  “I feel like you need to know something about my past.  Not the painful stuff.  I’m still not ready for that, but these things are close to it.  Which I suppose is what’s causing me to have so much trouble.  Hawke being here and having a talk with him yesterday, has made me realize that…

She sits on her knees and plays with the hem of her skirt.  “He told me.  That you and Bethany were…”

“Together?  I’m not even sure you could call it that.  Though Hawke tried to hide her, I knew she was there and when Meredith started doing sweeps of the area I knew if she found Bethany before me, that something bad would happen.  So, I went to their house and convinced her to turn herself into me.  I could protect her.”

She wants him to sit next to her.  She wants to see his face as he tells his story.  To see what emotions he is hiding.  “And she agreed?”

He nods, “She did.  I had met the both of them before he left for the Deep Roads.  She trusted me.  I was good on my word and though Meredith knew she was there, she didn’t bother her.  I’m not sure when we… started to become… intimate.  It just sort of happened one night.  She was upset about something, I don’t remember what.  Then one thing led to another…”

“Wow.  That was fast.”

“Eventually, it became a regular thing.  We never talked about what we were.  Just a bit of fun?  Just an escape from Meredith’s madness?  Who can say?”

“Hawke said you broke her heart.”

He turns to face her then.  “He said that?”  She nods.  “She never said… It doesn’t matter now.  So, now you know about Bethany.”  Shea watches him think.  She’s about to say something, when he sits on the couch and presses the bridge of his nose.  She wordlessly runs her fingers through his hair and waits.  He takes a deep breath.  “What I’m about to say… cannot leave this room.   I mean I know you wouldn’t say anything to anyone anyway, but this… I’ve never told anyone this.  And… she would probably be mad at me for even…”

“You don’t have to…”

He cuts her off.  “No.  I want to get this out.  It’s a stepping stone in my preparations for… getting to the bad stuff.  Which won’t happen tonight.”  She continues running her fingers through his hair as he steadies himself.  “Leliana shared some stories about the Hero of Ferelden with you, yes?”

“Yeah.  Some pretty big stuff too.  Stuff that could start the Ferelden Civil War all over again.”

“Exactly.  I honestly don’t know how people just forget important details about an important person in just ten short years, but they have.  I… uh… I knew her.  Before.”

“Oh that’s right.  You were stationed at Kinloch Hold while she was there.”

“Yes. I… we… were… together.”

“As in…”

He nods, “She was my first.  In a number of ways.  I think I may have even been in love with her.  Not that I ever told her that.”

“What happened?”

“Well, she was conscripted.  So, that was the end of it.  I guess you could say I’m attracted to the forbidden.”  He smirks at her.

“You think I’m forbidden?”

“In a way, yes.  Not explicitly.  There aren’t formal rules about it like there were in the Circle, but it still feels that way.”

She scoots closer to him.  “Is that why you keep pushing me away?  Because you think this is wrong?”

He thinks for a moment.  “Not wrong.  But not right either.  In other words, I’m torn.”

She sighs and closes her eyes.  These relationships were a prelude to something worse.  From what he is saying, he feels like that trend could continue.  If she pushes the issue and they do end up together, then he’d always be afraid that something was going to happen to pull them apart.  Danielle had been taken from the Circle by Grey Wardens and the Blight.  Bethany was taken from him because of the Kirkwall Rebellion, and from the way Hawke spoke of it, they were also forced apart by the Inquisition.  She can only see one thing that might take her away from him and it is far more permanent than the others.  Death.  But everything dies.  Shouldn’t they enjoy what they could while they could?

She opens her eyes again and he’s that he is staring at her.  “What?”

“You got quiet.  I hope… I didn’t…”

“No!  No, no.  I was just thinking.  Making sure I understand.”

“What do you think you understand?”

She touches his face.  “It’s not the forbidden aspect that gives you pause.  It’s how it all ended.  Horrible things, things I don’t even know about, have happened in your life.  These things have forced these relationships to end.  Things beyond your control.  You don’t like losing control.  You like to keep everything neat and organized.  But more than that, you don’t want to become attached to someone just to have these things take them from you.  Is that about right?”

He sighs, “You got all that from be telling you about the women I’ve slept with?”

“I’m pretty good at reading between the lines.  I… Cassandra…  Cassandra told me about…”

He slowly turns to look at her.  “Go on.”

“She told me that after Haven… you… but I’m not… but you still… it brought it all back.  But this time… this time what you really can’t control has taken… is going to take…  Look.  I’m not dead.  Yet.  And I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.  I… I want… no.  I need you.  And I think you need me too.”  He nods.  “Then why try to force a divide between us?  Death comes for us all in the end.  If we live in fear, then…”

He kisses her.  Her lips move against his.  She breathes him in.  She melts into him. He pulls away and runs his finger down her scar.  She smiles.  “What was that for?”

“Are you complaining?”

“Never.”

He kisses her again.  “So… that night on the battlements…”

She groans, “Can’t you just forget about that?”

“You said that you needed time to yourself.  That wasn’t that long ago.”

“Oh.  I regretted it immediately.  And even with just a few days of being without you, I didn’t like who I became.  I thought I‘d be able to separate Shea from the Inquisitor by myself.  Turns out I can’t.  Without you…”  She’s not sure if she should even finish the thought.  She doesn’t know what love is, but if she has to guess it is what she feels for him.  Finishing her sentence will pretty much being saying it even if she doesn’t actual use that word.

“Shea?”

“I… uh… fuck it.  Without you there is no me.”  He inhales sharply.  She looks up at him.  He is pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Cullen?”

“I’m sorry.  I’ll be fine in a second.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just all my talking has scratched at some old scars.  It’ll pass.”

She runs her fingers through his hair.  Her heart aches.  She hates seeing him like this and not knowing why.  She’s sure the withdrawals are part of it too.  He takes a few steadying breaths.  He blinks a few times and then meets her eyes.  “I’m good.  Headache’s still there, but I’m good.”

“Are you sure?  We could call it…”

“No.  Please repeat what you said before.”

She presses her forehead against his, closing her eyes.  “I said, without you there is no me.”

He cups her face in his hands.  He softly kisses her and then pulls her in.  He hugs her with her head on his chest.  He knows what she is saying, between the lines.  Even with his head pounding, his heart is full of joy.  She wants him, needs him.  He wants and needs her too.  The words bubbled up from his soul.  He thinks about stopping them, but he throws caution to the wind.  He’s known the truth for a long time now.  It is about time he said it.

“Shea?”

“Yes?”

He releases her and looks her dead in the eye.  The intensity and warmth of his emotions shine from his eyes.  She’s never seen this expression before.  Her breath catches in her throat.  Her heart pounds.  She is hypnotized by his eyes.  “Shea.  I…”

She covers her mouth with her hand.  Sweat beads up on her forehead.  “Oh Maker.  I’m sorry.”  She gets up and runs to room next to her wardrobe and flings the door open.  He gets up to follow her.  She purges her dinner into the chamber pot.  He kneels beside her and holds her hair back.  _Guess I’ll wait a little longer to tell her then._   He rubs her back with one hand and continues holding her hair while she continues throwing up.

Once she thinks she finished, she slumps back against his arm.  “Are you alright?”

She weakly nods.  “I don’t know what…”  She sits back up and he moves her hair out of her face as she vomits again.  She sits there for a moment, waiting.  She sits back on her knees slowly.  “I think… yes.  I’m done.”

“Stay right there.  Ok?”  She nods.  He stands and goes to your bath tub room and grabs a towel.  He finds a pitcher of water and pours a glass.  He pours a little water on the towel too.  He kneels down beside her and hands her the glass.  While she takes a few sips, he wipes her face with the towel.

She hands him back the glass and slowly stands.  He takes her hands and backs out as she walks forward.  She sits on the bed and lays back.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.”  He sets the towel down next her.  She grabs it a presses the wet spot against her neck.  He kneels down and unlaces her boots.

She points to the wardrobe, “Nightclothes in are there.”  He removes her boots and retrieves her nightgown.  He helps her sit up and removes her corset.  He continues to undress her, not even remotely turned on.  Doctor Cullen is in and he means business.  He pulls the dress over her head.  Once it’s on she lays back down on the bed.  He hangs up her clothes and removes his boots.  Her crawls on the bed next to her.  He brushes her hair out of her face.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.  You were about to say something?”

“It can wait.  Let’s just get some rest.  You’ve called a very early war council in the morning.”

She groans.  “Why do I hate me?”

He laughs softly.  “Well, it’s your meeting.  And you’ve disconnected your bell.  No one can summon the almighty Inquisitor to a war meeting, only she can.  So, sleep in until you feel better.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow for Crestwood.  I’ve got stuff to do before I leave.”

“Leave a little later.”

His stomach grumbles.  “Was that your stomach?”  He nods.  He is up in a flash and it’s his turn to purge his dinner.  She wants to help him, but the sound makes her stomach flip.  She grabs a pillow and presses it over her ears.  While he vomits, someone bangs on the door.  Shea rolls off the bed and crawls towards the door.  She stops when she gets to the stairs.  _Shit._ Cullen comes changing past her and walks slowly down the stairs.

“What?”

Leliana’s voice drifts up the stairs.  “How much did you drink?”

“What?”

She pushes past him and rushes up the stairs.  She goes over the table and picks up the wine bottle.  “I need to know how much of this you drank!”

Shea scratches her head.  Cullen sits down next to her on the floor.

“Please.  I need to know.  Now!”

Cullen narrows his eyes at her.  “Only a sip.  Each.  Why?”

“Thank the Maker.”  She sets the bottle down and pours the glasses back into the bottle.

“Leliana.  What’s going on?”

She shoves the cork back in the bottle.  “I’ll send someone up shortly.”  She starts for the stairs.

Shea shoves off the ground and stands in front of the stairs.  Her legs are wobbly and she grips the railing to support herself.  “Leliana.”

“The wine is poisoned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh noes! What's going to happen?
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> UPDATED July 22, 2018


	34. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to be sympathetic! Here's the next chapter!

Cullen stands quickly and sways as the blood rushes from his head.  He grabs the railing to remain standing.  “What the hell do you mean it’s poisoned?”

“Cabot, the barkeeper at the tavern, said you came by for a bottle of wine.  You asked for his best.  And he handed you this bottle.  While he was restocking the bar tonight he saw a bottle without a label hidden behind a cask.  He pulled the cork and it was the wine he thought he gave you.  Someone switched the labels.  I happened to be in the tavern and he came running over.  And I came here.”

“How do you know it was poisoned?”

“It’s my job to know.  It’s the oldest trick in the book when it comes to poisoning.”

Shea sighs, “But how did they know that I would ask for wine?  Anyone could have drank it.”

Cullen groans and slides back into the floor.  “The garden.  We were so involved in our game and planning for tonight that, we could have been watched with us even realizing.”

Leliana nods, “That or they heard the Inquisitor and Cassandra talking in the tavern earlier.  But whomever they are, or however they managed this, I will find them.  They will not be leaving Skyhold.  Iron Bull is already on their trail.”

Shea looks down at Cullen.  “Are we…”

“Not right away.  I need to find out what they used and get you the antidote.  You didn’t have much, so it will take a long time to take effect.  If you feel the need to vomit, do that and drinks lots of water.  That should buy you more time.”  Shea steps aside and Leliana runs down the stairs.

“Cullen?”  He looks up at her.  He is holding his stomach.  Shea reaches down to him.  “Come on.  Looks like we’re camping out in there tonight.”  He tries to stand but can’t.  “Can you crawl?”

He goes on all fours and drags himself back to the chamber pot.  He slumps against the wall.  Shea grabs the empty glass and hands it to him.  “Hold that.”  She shuffles to the water pitcher, grabs it with both hands, and shuffles back.  She sets it on the floor and slides down next to him.  She pours him a glass of water.  “Drink it.”

He downs the whole glass.  His stomach lurches and he launches himself forward.  Shea presses her palms into her ears as he violently pukes.  He groans.  “Shea.”

“Yes?”

“Is… I… we need a healer.”

“She’ll send one.”

He groans again.  “No.  As in right now.  I drank more than you did.”

Shea inhales sharply.  “What?!”

“I was nervous.  I took a gulp and not a sip.”

“Maker’s balls.  Stay here.  Drink that water.”  She uses the wall to help her stand.  As she passes behind him, something out of the corner of her eye catches her attention.  She falls to her knees next to him.  She runs her finger down his scar and wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth.  Then it hits her, not only did he drink more of it but his system is compromised because of the lyrium withdrawal.  “No.  No.  No.  No.  No.”

“Shea, I…”

“Hush.  Drink that water.  I will be right back.”  Finding a strength she didn’t know she had, she shoves herself off the floor.  She kisses the top of his head and runs.  She skids down the stairs.  She bursts into the throne room.  Her bare feet don’t provide much traction and she slips to the floor.  She scrambles to her feet and continues he run.  She’s not even sure where she’s going.  She bursts into the rotunda.  Solas isn’t there.  She takes a ragged deep breath and screams, “Dorian!”

He snaps his book closed and peeks his head over the railing.  Shea is standing there shaking in her nearly transparent nightgown.  She braces herself on Solas’ table as her knees threaten to give way.  He bolts down the stairs and skids to a stop in front of her.  A single bloody tear falls from the corner of her eye.  She is completely out of breath.  “I’ve… we’ve… he’s…”

“Where?”

“My… room.”

He scoops her up in his arms and runs back to her quarters.  He sets her on the bed.  “Where?”

She points to the room next to the wardrobe.  He rushes in.  Cullen is laying on his back in the floor.  The glass of water is spilled on the floor beside him.  Blood is seeping from his eyes and mouth.  Dorian bends down and checks his pulse.  He sighs with relief and goes back to Shea.  “Quickly as possible.  What happened?”

“Short version.  Poisoned wine.  He had more of it and he is…”  She has to tell him.  Cullen can be mad all he wants.  If he lives.  “He is going through lyrium withdrawals.”

“Do you know what poison was used?”

She shakes her, “Leliana is trying to find out.”

“We don’t have time to wait.”  He thinks for a moment.  He takes a deep breath.  “Do you have a dagger?”

“In the wardrobe.  Why?”

“You can both hate me later.”  He throws open the door and digs around until he finds one of her daggers.  He grabs it and goes back into the room where Cullen lies dying.  Shea forces herself off the bed and stands in the doorway.  Dorian kneels next to him.  He sees her standing there.  “You… may not want to watch this.”

She sinks to the floor and touches Cullen’s hair.  “I… do whatever you need to do.”

“You may change your mind.”

“Whatever it takes.”

He sighs, “Alright.”  He places the blades against the palm of his hand.  “Are you sure you want to watch this?”

“I’m not leaving him.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”  He drags the blade across his palm.  The cut is deep.  Then the air in the small room crackles with magic.  She tears her eyes from Cullen’s face and looks up at Dorian.  Her chest tightens.  Blood is rising from his hand.  She instantly regrets calling on him to help.  Not because he’s using blood magic, but because she has made him a blood mage.  He has refused to use it in the past.  It reminds him of how corrupt his homeland is.  He’s never actually used it until this very moment.

“I’m sorry.”

He shushes her, his brows furrow in concentration.  “Hold him still.”  She moves around Dorian.  She sits on Cullen’s legs and presses her palms into his shoulders, pinning him to the ground.  The hairs stand up on her arm as the magic in the room intensifies.  Dorian places his uncut hand on Cullen’s forehead.  “Well, here goes.”  He places his bleeding hand over Cullen’s mouth.  His body starts to thrash under her, so she presses him down harder.

After a few moments, his body calms.  Dorian removes his hand.  “We need to roll him.”  She helps him roll Cullen on his side.  “This will not be pretty.”  Dorian opens Cullen’s mouth and he places his bleeding hand near it and uses it to pull the magic back out of Cullen.  A river of blood and bile coming pouring out of him.  Shea squeezes her eyes closed as a fresh wave of nausea threatens to overtake her.

The air in the room returns to normal.  Dorian slumps back against the door frame, clinching his bleeding fist, and breathing heavily.

“Are you… both… ok?”

“Yes.  The poison is out as well as some of the lyrium in his blood.  I used it to help fuel the spell.  I figured if I was already doing blood magic, I might as well go all out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.  The way he was progressing… I don’t think anything else would have saved him.  So… you don’t hate me?”

She looks at him bewildered.  “Dorian.  You just saved his life.  And made yourself a maleficar to do it.  If anyone should be hated, it’s me.”

Dorian sighs.  “How are you feeling?”

“Um… not so great.”

He looks over at her.  A mix of blood and tears stain her cheeks.  He reaches over to her and presses his fingers against her neck.  “I can… if you want.  Or we can wait for Leliana.”

She looks at Cullen and the disgusting pool on the ground.  Her stomach lurches and she vomits into the chamber pot.  She wipes her mouth and there’s blood on the back of her hand.  This is what signaled Cullen’s rapid decline.  “Do you have the strength?”

Dorian reaches into his pocket and pulls out a vial of lyrium.  “Never leave home without it.”  He pulls the cork and downs it.  Looking at Cullen, he replaces the cork and puts the vial back in his pocket.  “Fair warning.  This is going to be worse for you.  He was unconscious and his body couldn’t fight me.  But yours will.  I will need you to focus every ounce of control to hold yourself still.”  She nods.  “The plus side to you being awake during this,” he motions to the floor, “You can aim.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“Lean against the wall there.  And just hold very still.  I’ll do this rest.”  She sits back against the wall.  She hugs her knees to her chest and focuses on breathing.  The air ignites again.  Her body is already recoiling at the magic being aimed at her.  “Ready?”

“Yes.”

He places his hand on her forehead, pressing her head into the wall.  “Relax your jaw and keep your mouth open.”

“Ok.”

The blood rises from his hand.  “This will not be pleasant and I’m so sorry.”  He covers her mouth with his bleeding hand.  Iron and sparks fly down her throat.  She squeezes her knees tighter.  His magic and blood fill her lungs and stomach.  She feels like she’s drowning.  In fact, her brain is telling her body it’s drowning.  She pushes past it.  Locking every muscle she has expect her mouth and jaw.  She feels something pop loose inside her stomach.  She feels lighter, but her lungs burn for air.  Not having to wait to turn her over, Dorian pulls his magic from her as he removes his hand.  She springs off the wall and the river bursts from her as she leans over the chamber pot.  Dorian slumps back against the door frame again and watches her expel the rot, poison, and blood.

She slumps back against the wall gasping for air.  Her breathing returns to normal and she sighs.  Though she is utterly exhausted, she feels fine.  No nausea.  No internal pain.  “Thank you.”

“I can’t have my best and only friend dying on me.  Or the man she loves.”

She smiles weakly.  “I feel really gross though.”

“If I had anything left, I’d help with that.”

“You’ve done more than enough.”

Cullen groans and stirs on the floor.  Dorian places his hand on his shoulder.  “Don’t try to move.  Take your time.”

Cullen opens his eyes, but doesn’t move.  His body tenses seeing the frothy red pool in front of him.  “Do I even want to know?”  His voice is horse.

Shea chuckles weakly, “Probably not.”

Cullen turns his head.  He is looking up at Dorian.  “Dorian?”

“Ah he remembers me.”

Cullen’s lips are dry, so he licks them.  He tastes iron.  His heart races.  “Ok.  Um… whose blood is…?”

“Now before you get all angry.  I didn’t have a choice.  It was this or you’d be dead right now.”

“You?”  Cullen spots the dagger on the ground and then his eyes find Dorian’s bleeding fist.

Dorian starts to move backward on the ground out the door.  “Now.  Commander.”

Cullen looks around the room and sees a towel.  He slowly moves from his spot on the ground and grabs it.  “Give me your hand.”  Dorian slowly extends his hand and Cullen wraps the towel around it.  “Keep pressure on it.  We’ll have Leliana get someone to heal you once she returns.”

“You’re handling this remarkably well.”

Cullen sighs.  “I trust you, Dorian.  And we’ve talked, at length, about Tevinter and magic.  How can I be mad at you for saving my life by using something you hate?”

“You still feel that way, even though I’m a blood mage now?”

Cullen chuckles, “Maybe in another life.”

He turns his attention to Shea.  Her head lulls against the wall, her eyes half closed.  Even still she smiles at him.  “I’m glad you’re alive.”

“I can say the same.  Did you go get him?”

She nods.  The three of them fall silent.  Shea falls asleep against the wall.  Leliana comes running up the stairs with a healer hot on her heels.  She sees the gory display and gasps.

“Is she…?”

“No.  Just sleeping.  Dorian saved us.”

Dorian looks up at her, “Is that a mage healer?”

“Yes, but why…?”

“Great.  Come here, love.  I need you to heal this before it scars and I can’t use this hand anymore.”  The healer kneels beside him and he offers her his hands.  She unwraps the towel and sees the deep cut.  She summons her magic and gets to work.  Leliana watches for a moment then turns her attention to Cullen.

“What happened?”

He tells her what he’s been able to piece together.  Leliana’s eyes fall to Dorian.  “We’ll keep this quiet.  For your protection more than anything.  The templars in Skyhold still have a visceral reaction to maleficarum.”

“I appreciate that.  I don’t plan on making this a common occurrence.”  The healer finishes her work and Dorian looks down at his hand.  “Oh, you’re good.  Not even a slight discoloration.”  She smiles at him.  He tries to stand, but his exhaustion keeps him down.  “Could you help me stand, love?  I would like to… throw these clothes away and go to bed.”  The healer helps him stand.  “Thank you.  Well, I’m off.  Do try not to die, I would notice if you were gone.”  The healer supports him as he takes his leave.

“I’ll go get someone to fill the bath so you two can get cleaned up.  I’ll send some clothes for you as well.  Um… I’ll send someone to clean all this up later.”

Cullen slowly stands.  His sides ache from being violently ill and he feels a little weak, but otherwise fine.  “Thank you.”  She nods and leaves.  Cullen looks over at Shea.  He hates to wake her, but he knows he can’t lift her.  He kneels down beside her.  “Shea.”  He shakes her gently.  “Shea.”

She slowly opens her eyes.  “Hmm?”

“Leliana is sending someone to get a bath ready so we can clean up.  I’d carry you to it, but I’m afraid I can’t.”

She groans and pushes away from the wall.  He stands and helps her up.  She looks down at herself.  “Well, this is ruined.”

“Could be worse.”

“True.  We should probably wait in here.  Don’t want to scare whomever comes in.”

They hear someone coming up the stairs.  It’s the same healer.  She has clothes in her hands.  She sets them on the couch and then goes to fill the bath.  Once she’s done, she goes over to them.  “It’s ready for you.”

“Thank you.”

“For what it’s worth.  My lips are sealed.”

“Again.  Thank you.”

She dips her head and leaves.

Shea grabs Cullen’s arm.  He links his arm with hers and slowly starts walking.  She brushes her finger along his scar as they shuffle to the waiting bath.  He smirks. “Are you ok?”

“Yes.  I think… seeing your eyes open again…”

He nods, “I know exactly what you mean.  Except you aren’t reacting the way I did.”

“What do you mean?”

“Thinking I lost you broke me.  If I didn’t think I was going to die too, then this whole poisoning thing, threatened to do the same.  But you didn’t break.”

“Oh I broke.  You just weren’t conscious to see it.  But I was not about to let the Maker take you without a fight.”  They enter her bath room, the steaming water looks so inviting.  “Alright.  You first.  You were on the ground, after all.  And almost died.”

“Are you kidding?  You can barely stand.”

“Well… there is an alternative.  Though this isn’t exactly how I imagined this happening.”

“Oh?”

She turns to face him, blushing under the blood on her face.  “It’s a big tub.”

“Oh… uh… that’s… actually a good idea.”

She sits on a stool in the corner.  “Perhaps, you should at least get in first.  That way you can catch me if I fall in.”  They smile at each.

“Don’t think I don’t catch what you’re doing, Lady Trevelyan.”

“Oh no.  You’ve caught me.  What ever shall we do?”

He pulls at the laces on his shirt, “Need I remind you that we almost died.  Who knows how much of that blood is ours?  Do try to control yourself.”

“Me?  Need I remind you that the last time you were here in an unofficial capacity, you were the one you started it.”

“Me? You’re the one who wanted to get more comfortable.”

“We can argue this till we’re blue in the face.  Maybe we were both at fault.”  She smiles.  He has to peal is shirt off, the wet blood making it stick to him.  He lets it drops to the floor with a soft splat.  “I will say that being covered in blood, isn’t the most attractive aspect of our evening.”  He unlaces his pants and then slides them and his smallclothes off at the same time.  “Though…”  She bites her lip.  He pulls off his socks and smirks at her.

“Control yourself, Lady Inquisitor.”

“ _You_ … control _yourself_ …”

He steps closer to her.  “Need help?”  He holds out his hand.  She takes it and he helps her stand.  She gently pushes him towards the tub.  He steps in and lowers himself into the water.  She gathers up the material of her dress before pulling it over her head.  She hears him inhale sharply.  She smiles at him as she lets it fall to the floor.

“Now, Commander.  If I have to control myself, then so do you.”

“I think I’ve done perfectly well controlling myself tonight.”

She slides out of her smallclothes.  She shuffles over to the tub.  Cullen eyes drink in the view.  She holds out her hand to him and clears her throat.  He takes her hand and she uses it to keep herself steady as she steps in.  She lowers herself into the water.  She is facing him.  She lays back against the tub wall and sighs.

“Have I ever told you that I love baths?”

“I gathered as much since you’ve had them installed here and back at Haven.”

“A nice warm bath is one of my favorite places.”

“I can see why.”  They smile at each other.  He reaches into the water and finds her foot.  He grabs the bar of soap of the shelf on the wall.  He massages and cleans her foot.  She sinks lower into the water until all that is above the surface is her head and closes her eyes.  He is trying to be clinical about this.  But his mind drifts to the first time he bathed her.  He hears her chuckle.  “Something funny?”

“No.  But I was just remembering the first this happened.”

His voice is low and deep, “So was I.”

She pulls her leg away from him.  “Hey now.  I heard that.”

“Heard what?”

“Your voice got all low and grumbly.”

“I see.  The list of things I can’t do when we’re trying to behave ourselves just keeps growing.”  He grabs her ankle and pulls it back towards him.  “Now, if you don’t mind.  I was in the middle of something.”

“Yes, ser.”  She relaxes against the tub as he washes her.  He avoids all of her sensitive areas.  His hold on his control is shaky at best, hearing her moan or touch her in those spots, would break his hold.  After he washes her face, she dunks her head under the water.  She surfaces and then moves closer to him.  “Your turn.”  She grabs the soap from his hand.  She also avoids sensitive areas as she scrubs the blood from his skin.  His body is clearly not responding to the bath the way hers was.  And maybe that is just the after effects of blood loss, vomiting, and poisoning.

She makes sure every speck of blood and filth is cleaned.  She moves back from him.  “Turn around.  I want to make sure I got your back.”  He does as he is instructed.  She washes his back, relishing the feel of his muscles under her fingers.  She massages his shoulders and he relaxes under her touch.  She hadn’t even realized he was so tense.  Was he letting go of his control over himself?  She really hoped not, she is exhausted and she wants to be fully awake if they are going to start something.

She cups her hands and pours water over his head.  Taking the cue, he dunks his head under water.  She starts washing the blood out of his blonde hair.  He has been thinking for a while that bathing each might not be the best idea, but now he knows it.  Feeling her hands all over him and now scrubbing his scalp, is not helping with his control.  His resolve is melting away with her touch.  She taps his shoulder and he sinks his head under the water.  He quickly rinses his hair and then surfaces.

He turns around to face her.  She turns her back to him and wets her hair.  As his fingers run through her hair, she quickly washes her private areas.  He washes her hair and massages her scalp.  Her resolve is also slipping.  If they don’t leave this bath soon, she might not be able to stop herself.  When he removes his hands from her hair, she dips under water to rinse it.  When she emerges, he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her to him.

She sinks into his embrace and lays her head back on his shoulder.  She runs her hand along his arms.  Her eyes closed.  “This is nice.”

“If we weren’t so exhausted, it could be nicer.”

She yawns.  “No kidding.”

He reluctantly pushes her away and stands.  He grabs a towel off the shelf and steps out of the bath.  He dries himself and wraps the towel tightly around his waist.  He grabs another towel and reaches down her to.  She takes his hand and stands.  She steps from the bath and he wraps the towel around her.  He lifts her chin and lightly kisses her.  He steps back and leaves her to dry herself.  He pulls the covers back on the bed.

She wraps her arms around his waist and kisses the spot between his shoulder blades.  He turns in her arms and brushes his finger down the scar on her face.  “We should…”

“Get some sleep?”

He chuckles.  “Yes.”  He drops his towel on the floor and climbs into bed.  He lays on his back and looks up at her.  “You just going to stand there and ogle me all night, or are you coming to bed?”

She drops her towel and crawls into bed beside him.  He pulls the covers over them.  He lifts his arm and she struggles closer.  She lays her head on his chest and wraps one of her legs around his.  Her skin tingles as he runs his fingers along her spine.  She wants so desperately to say something profound and touching.  But her brain is foggy with sleep.  Instead, she says the first thing that pops into her head.

She breathes against his chest, “Ir tel’him, ma vhenan.”

He chuckles, “What does that mean?”

She smiles and kisses his chest.  “Guess you’ll have to ask someone.”  He kisses the top of her head.  After a few moments of quiet, they both fall into a deep, dreamless, sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it! Thanks for your continued support!
> 
> UPDATED July 22, 2018


	35. PDA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift
> 
> Sorry for the delay. It's been a rough weekend.

The sun streams through her stained glass windows.  She’s been awake for about an hour, but can’t bring herself to move.  So, she lays of his chest, listening to him heart and watching the sun rise.  He looks at peace, he’s not sweating, and his eyes aren’t darting around behind his eyes.  She has never seen him sleep without a nightmare.  She hears the door unlock and quiet foot falls on the stairs.  She does a quick double check to make sure they are covered.

Leliana quietly approaches.  Shea turns her head toward her, puts her finger against her lips, and points to Cullen still fast asleep.  She leans in close and whispers, “I just needed to give you some information.  No one knows how serious last night was.  They know about the attempt, but that’s all.  I have people blocking the door downstairs.  You will not be disturbed.  And I’m going to go hide somewhere.  If they can’t find me, they can’t start a war meeting and they won’t try to find you until they do.”

Shea mouths, “Thank you.”

Leliana nods and quietly leaves.  Shea turns her face back towards the window.  She feels blissful, happy.  She studies the room, trying to capture the moment in her memory.  This is her safe place and she wants to remember every detail.  The warmth and strength of his arms, even in sleep.  Their skin pressed together beneath her blankets.  The feel of his chest hair against her face and between her fingers.  The sun casting rainbows across the room as it shines through the colored glass.  The smell of him as she breathes.

He stirs as she twirls his chest hair between her fingers.  He holds her tighter and sighs contentedly.  He kisses the top of her head.  “If only every morning could be like this.”

“Shh.  Just enjoy it while it lasts.”

They lay there watching the sun slowly rise.  She sighs.  She can feel the world pulling her back to reality.  She pushes herself up on her forearms and looks down at him.  He brushes the hair from her face.  They gaze into each other’s eyes.  He admires the way the light dances across her bare skin.  He pulls her face to his and kisses her.  The loving tender kiss slowly turns into a deep passionate one.  Their lips moving together.  He rolls onto his side bringing her with him.  He slides his tongue between her lips.  The kisses deepens.  Their tongues and lips moving against each other.

They separate, breathing heavily.  He still feels weak from being poisoned.  Therefore, his body isn’t cooperating with him.  He sighs and rest his head on her forehead.  “Something wrong?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

It takes her a minute to process his meaning.  Their bodies are pressed together and it clicks.  “Oh!  Oh.  Well… that…”

He smiles as the blush hits her cheeks.  “It’s probably for the best.  You’re still leaving today aren’t you?”

She groans.  “Yes.  If no one knows how close we were to dying last night, then yes.  They will all assume that everything is still on schedule.”

He brushes his lips against hers.  “Then we really shouldn’t.  Not right now, anyway.  I’ve… I mean… I…”

She laughs.  “What?”

“I’ve been with a… uh…”

“Virgin?”

“Yes.  And the last thing she wanted to do was...”

She groans.  “Fucking horses.  Fucking travelling.  Why is it every time I’m prepared to leave and then the days comes and I don’t want to anymore?”

He smiles.  “I know what you mean.”  He kisses her.  “I don’t want you to leave either.”  She pulls his face back down to hers, kissing him in earnest.  She takes one of his hands a places it on her breast.  He smiles against her lips.  “You sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to get all riled up before you have to leave.”

She kisses him.  “I don’t care.”  He rubs his thumb against her nipple and she gasps.  He presses his lips against hers as he caresses her.  She moans into his mouth.  He kisses down her neck.  She runs her fingers through his hair.  He kisses her collarbone and then down the center of her chest.  He brushes his nose across each of her nipples and she whimpers.  He licks and teases her.  He takes one of her nipples into his mouth.  She moans and shifts her hips.

He’s getting a little frustrated with himself.  He is enjoying her noises and the feel of her against him, but nothing is happening to him.  He pushes his frustration aside and returns his full focus to her.  She rolls her onto her back.  Her legs fall apart and he kneels between them.  He brings his mouth to hover above hers.  His palms pressing into the bed on either side of her head.  She licks her bottom lip and runs her hand down his chest.  He smirks down at her.  He brushes his lips against hers, barely touching her.  She tries to pull him closer and he pins her arms down.  He trails a line of the softest kisses imaginable along her jaw, down neck, between her breasts.

He releases her arms and looks up at her.  Her lips are red and swollen.  Her face is flushed and her breathing is heavy.  He smirks again.  His lips brush against her abdomen, her navel, her hips.  He runs his hand along her inner thigh.  She can’t see him anymore.  He has disappeared below the covers.  She flings them off and he looks up at her.   He crawls backwards.  He reaches underneath her and grabs her hips pulling her down the bed with him.  He kneels on the floor at the end for the bed.  He pulls her until her feet are flap on the bed, her knees bent.  He runs his hands up her legs, drinking in the view of her legs spread before him. 

He brushes his lips along her inner thigh.  He kisses her hips, across the lowest part of her stomach, then down the other thigh.  He traces the scar on her thigh with his tongue.  He travels back up her thigh. She can feel his warm breath brushing her skin as he brings himself closer to her center.  He caresses the soft skin between her legs.  Tracing circles around her.  He gently stimulates her nub.  Her moans are near constant.  He looks up at her.  She eyes are closed and her hands grip the sheets as she squirms under his touch.

His mouth makes contact and she cries out.  He runs his tongue up and down between her soft folds.  He moves slowly to create a slow build up and savoring her wetness.  He gently flicks his tongue against her clit.  Teasing her.  He runs his hand up her stomach and she grabs it.  Lacing her finger in his.  He sucks on her, licks her, and explores her with his tongue.  She squeezes his hand as she climaxes.  Spasms rolling though her.  But he doesn’t stop.  As he feels her relax, he slides his fingers inside her.  He continues going down on her while his fingers work. 

Her moans are loud and breathy.  Her back arches and she grabs the back of his head.  Her fingers grabbing a fist full of his hair.  He frees his other hand from hers and slides it higher.  He plays with her breast as he continues to pleasure her.  Another wave rushes through her, followed by another.  Her cries cut off as she gaps for air.  He slows down, letting her settle back down.  He slides his fingers from her and runs his tongue from her opening to her clit.  He sits back and watches her breathe.

He wipes his face with the back of his hand.  She eyes flutter open and she reaches her hand towards him.  He crawls onto the bed next to her.  He props himself on his elbow and laces his fingers into her out stretched hand.  She rolls onto her side, facing him.  He leans in closer.  She closes the distance and kisses him.  “That was…”  He smirks and waits.  “I… wow.”  She snuggles against him and he wraps his arm around her.

They hear a soft knock on the door.  Shea groans.  Cullen pulls them both up to a sitting position.  He kisses her shoulder.  “The sooner you fix things that sooner you can come back.”

“Yeah.  Now that means I have to walk around and be the boss.”

“Then allow me to make the first move.”  He stands and walks over to the couch.  Her eyes devour his perfect ass as he bends to pick up the clothes left for him.  He pulls the pants on and she groans.  “Were you enjoying the view?”

“You did that on purpose.”

He turns to face her with the shirt in his hands.  “Indeed I did.”  He puts the shirt on and walks towards her.  She sits up on her knees.  The height of the bed making her eyes level with him.  He walks past her and grabs his boots.  He shoves them on his feet and quickly laces them.  He walks towards her again.  He takes her face is his hands.  “I’ll see you in the war room.”  He kisses her and trails his finger down her scar as he heads for the stairs.

“Wait.”

He stops and turns.  “Yes?”

“Are you just going to walk out into the hall?”

He smirks, “You haven’t taken a tour of your tower have you?”

“No.  Why?”

“There’s a basement entrance.”

“What?  Really?”

He nods.  “It’s mainly for emergencies.  The entrance is hidden behind a bookcase.”

“That dusty cobweb covered one?”

He nods.  “I found it while moving the villagers into the caverns below Skyhold.  I haven’t told anyone about.  So, it’s our secret.”  He descends the stairs, disappearing from view.

Shea falls onto her back and sighs.  She doesn’t want to leave, but knows that she has to.  She rolls off the bed to dress for her trip.

***

She enters her throne room.  Wearing her new armor and her new axe secure on her back, she feels powerful.  Her hair is up in a ponytail with some of the strands curling by her ears, too short to be held back.  Heads turn as she walks with purpose.  Cassandra is waiting for her outside the door leading to Josephine’s office.

“It suits you.”

“Thank you.  Ready to go in?”

“Yes, Inquisitor.  You seem to be in a good mood this morning.”

Shea smiles, “I am.  I’m… looking forward to getting back out there.”

Shea leads Cassandra to the war room.  Her advisors are already inside.  She smiles as she watches Cullen’s jaw drop, which is exactly what she was going for by not letting anyone see the armor.  “Good morning, everyone.  We have a few matters to attend to before I set out.  First, anything to report about the incident last night?”

Leliana hands her a report.  “Bull and my scouts couldn’t find whomever was responsible, but we’re still looking.  They must have left a trail.  We will figure this out.”

“Have you figured out how they managed it at least?”

Cassandra chimes in, “I was reviewing our conversation and I don’t think they could have figured it out from that.”

Cullen nods, “Then they must have done it sometime during our chess match.  I am unsure as to how long we played, but they would have had limited time to set everything up.  Bull spends a lot of time in the tavern, did he see no one go into the stock room that shouldn’t have?”

Leliana chuckles, “Bull was… otherwise engaged at the time.  We’re still asking around.  Cabot assures us that he keeps a close eye on his stocks, but that doesn’t explain how the bottles got switched.”

Shea thinks this over, “It would take time to switch the labels and if Cabot never left the bar… is there any way it could be him?”

Leliana shakes her head.  “I don’t believe so.  The poison used is popular among assassins.  Bards, The House of Repose, and even the Antivan Crows.  I’m reaching out to some of my contacts to see if there is a contract on your lives.  I can’t make any promises.  I don’t have any contacts among the House of Repose, but they are unusually civil when it comes to finding out if someone has a contract with them.”

Josephine sighs, “There is the possibility that this person was not part of a formal organization.  If that is the case, they will be hard to track down.”

Shea places the report on the table.  “Plant some people in the tavern and keep the searches quiet.  If they suspect we’re onto them, they might flee or worse.  Seeing us will let them know they’ve failed and they might try again.  Which opens up an opportunity to catch them.”

Cullen stiffens, “Are you suggesting using the both of us as bait?”

She looks over at him, “No.  I’m suggesting… using _you_ as bait… as I won’t be here.”

Their eyes meet.  Hers are telling him that she’s sorry for suggesting it.  He understands and can see that this is hard for her.  “In that case, we should continue as usual.  No extra guard on me.”

Shea sighs, “Have Bull reach out to the Ben-Hassrath.  Keep the details in house, but let them know that an attempt was made.  See what they have to say about it.  Now to more pleasant business.  As you now, it will be some time before I return to Skyhold.  The Inquisition cannot remain stagnant in my absence.  Therefore, I have appointed Seeker Pentaghast as Seneschal of Skyhold.  She will manage the day to functions as well as be my voice in these meetings while I am gone.”

Cullen nods, “A wise move, Inquisitor.  I can think of no one better suited for the task.”

Josephine makes a note on her pad, “Yes.  I quite agree.  I will forward all reports and requests regarding Skyhold’s maintenance to you, Seneschal Cassandra.  I leave it to you to decide where you would like your office.”

Cassandra groans at her new title.  “I already have an office.  It’s above the blacksmith next to requisitions.”

Josephine makes a note on her pad.  Shea looks around the room.  “Are there more pressing matters that need my attention?”  They all shake their heads.  “Great.  Then I must finish my preparations.”  The meeting ends and they all go their separate ways.

Her first order of business is to check in with the rest of her inner circle.  Hawke and Varric are ready to go.  Vivienne actually pays her a complement on her appearance.  Sera wants to put an arrow in whomever tried to kill her friend.  Blackwall is making a wooden griffin and expresses his concern about the missing Grey Wardens.  Solas is busying himself studying some artifacts they’ve found on their travels.  She has to hunt for Cole, but when she finally locates him, he smiles at her.

“Light in the dark.  A safe place.  You are yourself.  You make him himself, too. The song is not so loud around you.  You help heal his hurt.  He heals your hurt.  You fit.  Complete, comfort, caring.”

“Yes.  All of that is true.  Though, I suppose you already knew that.”

“You should tell him, you know.  He would like it.  And you will like his response.”

“It’s… not that easy.”

“It should be.  Eyes watching, staring, questioning.  Longing, living, light.  But heavy too.  Secret, private, confined.  Telling will heal the hurt.”

“Maybe.  But it could also complicate things.”

“Target, exploited, weakness.  But he did not die.  Guilty and gutted.  It wasn’t your fault.”

Shea turns her face away from him.  She forgot how intense he could be when reading her.  It is easier to listen to him read someone else.  She can’t deny that what he is saying.  They are her thoughts after all.

“Blood, pain, maleficar.  He wanted to help.”

“Alright, Cole.  That’s enough for now.”

“If you say so.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll see you when I get back.”

He smirks, “How do you know?”  She can’t help but smile back.  He’s never made her forget him.  She thinks he knows that she needs to remember him for his help stick.  He’s weird, but she likes him.  She heads back to the rotunda.  She wants to see if Dorian is up for travel.  He looked so weak after he left last night and she has been worried about him constantly.

She waves to Solas as she passes him and climbs the stairs.  He’s not in his usual spot.  The book he was reading sits on his chair.  It occurs to her that she has no idea where else he could be.  Every time she’s needed him, he’s been in his reading alcove.  Her worry shifts to concern.  She leans over the railing and calls down, “Hey Solas.  Have you seen Dorian today?”

He looks up to her, “As a matter of fact, no I haven’t.  That seems odd.”

“Any ideas as to where he might be?”

“Hmm.  I would ask Iron Bull.  They seem to be spending a lot of time together.”

“Um… ok.  Thanks.”

She goes to visit with Iron Bull, but he hasn’t seen him either.  Her concern shifts to fear.  She wishes she knew where his room is.  If she did, she’d check there.  If anyone would know it would be Leliana.  So, she goes to the top of the rotunda.

“Hey.  Have you seen Dorian today?”

Leliana sets her report down.  “I saw him leaving his room this morning.”  She digs through some papers.  Shea suddenly feels a little unnerved that the spymaster tracks everyone’s actions.  “Let’s see.  Last report says he was spotted in the throne room just after our meeting.  Is something wrong?”

“No.  I just wanted to talk to him before I left.”

“Maybe he went to clean up your quarters before the stone stains.”

Shea smacks her forehead.  _Of course, that’s where he is_.  “You’re probably right.  Thank you.”

Shea goes back down the stairs, through the throne room, then up the stairs to her quarters.  Sure enough, there he is.  “I’ve been looking for you all over.”

He looks over at her, “You’ve found me.”

“I thought something had happened to you.”

“The Inquisitor worried about a lowly blood mage?  Perish the thought.”

She sighs, “I’m…”

“Don’t you dare apologize, again.  It was my choice more than it was yours.”

“But I asked…”

“You asked for my help.  I gave it willingly.  And if no one knows about it, then everything should be fine.”

“Ok.  I’ll drop it.  Did you get it all cleaned up?” He motions for her to take a look.  No a single drop of blood anyway.  “Wow.”

“I also managed to save my clothes as well as yours.  I figured if I’m already a maleficar, I might as well put it to go use before I stop using it again.”

Shea laughs, “You used blood magic to clean?”

He shrugs.  “It’s not inherently bad.  That’s just what most blood mages use it for.”

“How are you feeling?”

“A little drained.  It’s been a long time since I used that much magic at one time, but otherwise I’m fine.  Ready to hit the road, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Well, good.  We’ll be leaving soon, so you should probably get your things together.  I’ll meet you at the stables in a half hour.”

“Who all is coming on our extended vacation?”

She laughs.  “Not the word I would use.  Varric and Hawke.  Because he refused to stay here if Hawke was going.  Me and you, naturally.”  She smirks, “And Bull.”  He scoffs.  “What?  Have you tired of him already?”

“I haven’t… there’s nothing to tire of.”

“Yeah ok.”

He motions to her unmade bed.  “I’ll tell if you will.”  She blushes and covers her face.  “That’s what I thought.”  He smiles and walks smugly from her room.  She does final check to make sure she has everything she needs and heads down the stairs after him.

***

Cullen is standing behind his desk sorting reports.  He’s trying to separate the ones that are now Cassandra’s responsibility.  He’s been having difficulty focusing.  His thoughts drifting to her every few minutes.  Worrying about her.  Fantasizing about her.  Recalling their morning together.  What she had said to him in elven.  When his door opens, he’s expecting it to be Jim bringing even more work.  When he looks up, he smiles.

“Come to say goodbye?”

“Did you think I would leave without doing so?”

“Where’s your axe?”

“With the horses.  Care to walk with me?”

He sets the reports aside.  “I’d like that.”  He leads her through a side door onto the battlements.  It’s not exactly private.  There are soldiers milling around and walking on their patrols.  “It’s a nice day.”

She laughs.  “What?”

“For travel, I mean.”

“Yes.  It is.”

“Did you… have something in mind… for our walk?”

She stops and leans against the outside wall.  “I… well… I just couldn’t leave without…”

“Without?”

“I wanted to… discuss…”

“Us?”

“Yes.”

He steps closer to her. “What about us?”

“Well… I… you know I care for you.  At least I hope you know that.  And I think you care for me too.”

“I do.”

She looks away.  “Good.  Because I do, too.”

He chuckles, “You said that.”

“Right.”

He rubs his neck.  “You know… I spoke with Solas this morning.  After the meeting.”

“What about?”

“What you said to me last night.”

She blushes, “Oh.  I thought you’d wait until I left…”

“I probably would have if my mind would have let me focus on something other than you.”

She looks down and watches her fingers fiddle with the stitching of her gloves.  “And… what did he say?”

“First, he said I should never speak elven again, because I butchered it.”  She laughs.  “Second, he was interested in why you’d use those phrases.”

“Did he tell you what they mean?”

He leans in closer, “You said, ‘I am me again, my heart.’  Then he did one better.  He taught me a reply.”  He pulls a strip of paper from his pocket.  She watches his face and does her best not to look at the paper.  He might butcher it, but he’s trying and she doesn’t want to ruin the surprise.  He clear his throat.  “Ar lath.”

She inhales sharply and pushes off the wall.  Their faces are a breath away.  “Commander!  I have the copy of Sister Leliana’s report.”

Cullen turns on him a growls.  “What is it, Jim?”

“Sister Leliana’s report.  You wanted it delivered without delay.”  Cullen glares at him.  “To... your office, then.  Right... sorry.”  Jim backs away and then turns to flee.

Shea sighs.  “If you need to…”  His mouth presses against hers and backs her into the wall.  He grabs her faces and she grabs onto the fur on his cloak.  Electricity surges through her.  She leans into the kiss.  Lips and tongues moving together.  The world around them disappears.  The only thing that exists is them.  They finally part and their eyes meet.  She catches a glimpse of the soldiers watching them out of the corner of her eye.  “It seems we have an audience.”

“I don’t care.  Do you?”

Instead of answering his questions, she pulls him in and kisses her again.  The soldiers murmur to themselves.  Then continue their patrols.  “Does that answer your question?”

He smirks.  “As if people weren’t talking enough.”

“Who gives fuck about what anyone else thinks?”

“So, we’re really doing this?  No hiding, no secrets, no shame?”

She pulls away to get a better look at his face.  He’s smiling from ear to ear.  Joy radiates from his eyes.  “I think we are.  I suppose there’s no need to talk about it then.  This feels right.”

“I agree.” He kisses her.

“So we’re officially a couple and you love me?”

“Yes... wait... when did I say?”

She laughs.  “Did Solas not tell you what ‘Ar lath’ means?”

“No.  Just that you would like it.”

“It means, ‘I love you.’  Is that something you meant to say?”

He presses his forehead against hers.  “I… that’s not how I wanted to say it… but yes.  I do.”

She kisses him lightly.  “Good.  Because I do too.”

He grabs her face and kisses her passionately.  Someone near them clears their throat.  They both look over to see who it is.  Hawke is standing beside them with his arms crossed.  “If you’re quite done trying to devour each other, we’re losing day light.”  Shea blushes and sighs.

“I won’t be much longer.”

“Uh huh.  Don’t make me come back up here.”

“Hey!  You’re on my turf now, Hawke.  I’m the boss here.”

“If you don’t hurry, I’ll send that kid… what’s his name?  Cole!  I’ll send Cole to the tavern to narrate what’s going on up here.”  He heads down the stairs with a smirk on his face.

Shea sighs, “Maybe I should go.  Not that I care what people say about us, but I feel sorry for Cole having to be subjected to Hawke.”

He chuckles.  He gives her one final kiss before pulling away.  “Be safe.”

She smiles, “Always.”

She starts down the stairs and stops.  She turns back around and rushes toward him.  She throws her arms around his neck and legs around his waist.  The metal of their armor clings together.  He catches her and grabs her ass to support her.  She kisses him all over his face.  He laughs as she loosens her hold on him.  He sets her on the ground.  They kiss again and she runs down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about damn time right?! :D
> 
> Also fluff and smut in one chapter yay!
> 
> UPDATED July 22, 2018


	36. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** pov/time shift

Shea thinks she is doing well with the whole distance thing.  They write back and forth.  No business, all personal.  She figures the distance between from before that is helping now.  He happens to agree when she says so in a letter.  They miss each other, but they are better at balancing now that their relationship is out in the open.   She gets teased by your friends, but she finds she doesn’t care.  She gets embarrassed when the questions get super personal, but she is happy everyone knows.  She is happy to have be in a committed relationship.  Of all the things happening in her life, this feels like the most important.

It’s been a month since she left Skyhold.  The fighting and finding out how truly awful some people in the world are when they think what they are doing is right is hard.  They are all pushing themselves to get things done quickly.  They have a lot to do.  Crestwood ends up being a lot more difficult than they planned.  A giant rift under a lake, which was caused by the mayor flooding the valley during the Blight, which then caused the whole area to be swarming with undead when a rift opened in one of caverns.  They find Grey Wardens hunting for Hawke’s friend Shroud.  A dragon.  Red templars.  Nonstop rain.  She is glad when they leave.

They leave Hawke to travel with Stroud to the Western Approach.  They would meet them there.  She has some “fun” in the deep roads after the large earthquake breaks open a mine in the Storm Coast.  Discovers that lyrium comes from something called a titan and that they are so big, you can walk inside their bodies and not even know it. 

From there they sail upon the Waking Sea to Val Royeaux.  They are headed for the Western Approach.  They set up camp on a grassy open spot of land just before entering the desert.  She sits watching the fire, half listening to a story Varric is telling her.  He is trying to distract her from the very loud noises coming from Dorian’s tent.  It seems that he has finally given in to Bull’s advances.  They sound like they are having a lot of fun.  Varric’s distraction isn’t working.  Her mind is in Skyhold.  It is the first time in a month that she really allows herself to miss him.  Her heart aches.  She wonders what he is doing, if he is eating, how his withdrawals are treating him, if he is sleeping well.

At some point, Varric has stopped talking.  It snaps her back to the present.  “I’m sorry.  It’s hard to focus on anything with all… _that_ … going on.”

“Reminding you of a certain ex-templar?”

“A bit, yeah.  For some reason.”

“Hawke told me about you two.”

She looks over at him them.  “Define you two.”

“You and him.  Back in Kirkwall.”

“What did he say exactly?”

“Nothing I didn’t already suspect.  You knew each other.  Maybe had a shot at making something happen.  Ultimately deciding to be friends.  He isn’t as sly as he thinks he is.”

“You suspected?”

“Not that it was you he was keeping from me.  You can’t do anything in the Hanged Man without me knowing about it.  I just figured whomever he was kissing was just some girl he had on the side and was keeping her a secret so Fenris wouldn’t kill her.”

She chuckles, “You think he would have?”

“Well, he would have tried.”

“Still think he might?”

“Well, you’re not a mage or a slaver.  And you have a man, so I think you’re safe.”  She smiles and rests her chin on her knees.  “That’s going well I take it?”

“Depends on what you mean by that.  We weren’t a couple until just before we left Skyhold.”

“You mean it only became public then?  I think you’ve been a couple since day one.  But that’s just my opinion.”

“It did sort of takeoff didn’t it?”

“If something is meant to be… blah blah blah.”

“Are you jealous?”

He laughs, “Why on earth would I be jealous?”

“Are you just naturally flirtatious or…”

“I can’t help it if my charm is too much for you.  I’ll try not to get in the way.”

They laugh.  The noises from Dorian and Bull finally die out.  “We better take advantage of the momentary silence while we can.”

Varric chuckles, “You don’t think Sparkler and Tiny are finished?”

“I’d put money on it.  That’s been building up for a while.”

“I’ll take that bet.”

“What’ll it be?”

“5 gold?”

“Deal.  I’m going to sleep before they prove you wrong.”  She gets up and goes into her tent.  She lays down on top of her bedroll and stares at the top of her tent.  She does her best to push him from her thoughts.  More accurately, she tries to push her worry from her thoughts.  He loves her.  He didn’t say it on purpose, but he said it.  And meant it.  The faster she finishes her work in the field, the sooner she can be with him.  Her eyes start to drift closed.  She hears a loud smack.

“You’re going to bruise me, damn it!”

“I’m marking my territory.”

“I am not your… oh my.”

She rolls onto her side and presses her hands against her ears. She grumbles, “Varric owes me 5 gold.” She is forced to listen to them as sleep finally takes her.

***

The Western Approach does not have good news.  Grey Wardens becoming possessed and mindless blood mages.  All controlled by a Venatori ass hat and Corypheus.  Her hand hurts.  Though she is somehow able to counter his attempt at crippling her through the mark, he has still done something to it and she is in near constant pain.  However, she hides it well.  She has more work to do on the way back and she isn’t going to let this stop her.  Her boys keep checking on her, checking if she is in pain.  She lies and somehow manage to make it sound convincing.

The pain in her hand is making it difficult to sleep.  Bull and Dorian aren’t helping either.  As they arrive in the Emerald Graves, the mark flares.  She can’t hide it anymore.  She falls to her knees.  Bull pulls her up.

“Alright.  Get back on your horse, we’re…”

“No!  I just need to stabilize it.  Find me a rift.”

“Boss…”

“Rift!  Now!”

When they meet up with Scout Harding, who has to be magic to get to every base camp before them, she points them in the direction of the closest rift.  The demons there are strong.  Almost too strong.  Shea uses her mark at every available moment.  Opening rifts to damage the demons, disrupting the main rift.  Her lack of energy makes it hard to keep it up.  _Yeah, definitely going home after I close this thing._   Finally after almost dying, she closes the rift.  They all sit on the ground, winded and bloody.

“Why the hell were these so powerful?”

Shea shakes her head.  “I don’t know.  It could have something to do with the Grey Wardens forcing even more demons into our world.  It could also be that there are fewer rifts and the lesser demons are having a harder time coming through.  I’ll have to talk to Solas about this.”

Varric pulls out his rag to wipe down Bianca, “How’s your hand?”

Shea looks down at it.  “Well, it’s still brighter than normal.  See,” She holds up her hand, “My gloves usually cover it unless it’s in use.  But the pain is gone, so that’s a plus.”

“Good.”

Shea lays back in the grass.  “What do you boys say we call it?”  They all sigh with relief.  “I’ll take the as a yes.  Let’s go back to base camp and rest up for the night.  We can head back to Skyhold in the morning.”  None of them move to stand.  “Or we can hang out here for a bit.  That’s good to.”

***

The two month mark has come and gone.  Cullen sits at his desk re-reading her last report.

 

_Cullen,_

_We’ve been delayed.  The pass I planned on taking through the Frostbacks is completely blocked.  Someone should update that on the maps.  It doesn’t even look safe to clear._

_Even with skipping the Emerald Graves, which bought us a shorter trip, we’re going to be late.  If I had to guess… I’d say a week.  Maybe more.  Going down a mountain with horses is slow work.  Once we’re on flat ground again, we’ll move faster.  Though I’m sure you know that._

_I hope you are taking care of yourself.  I try not to worry, but I do._

_I’m fine, by the way.  Tired, but fine.  The mark has returned to normal after the Approach._

_I look forward to a hot bath and sleeping in a real bed._

_As always, I miss you terribly._

_~Shea_

He sets the paper on the desk and rubs his temples.  His headaches are slowly returning.  He assumes something Dorian did while saving him helped with his withdrawal for a while, but it is slowly taking hold of him again.  He’s only had a few tame nightmares in the past couple of nights and it actually scares him a little bit.  He feels like something is lurking, lying in wait.  He worries what that might mean when they return.  Were his demons busy developing their new means of torture before assaulting his mind again?  He growls as the pain behind his eyes, intensifies.

“Long day?”  Despite his pain, he smiles.  His heart soars out of his chest.  He stands a little too quickly and has to brace himself on the desk.  Shea rushes to him from where she is leaning in the door frame.  “Are you alright?”

He nods.  “A slight headache combined with standing too quickly that’s all.”  He takes her face in his hands.  She tilts her face up to him and presses up on her toes.  He tenderly kisses her.  “I’ve missed you.”

“As have I.  You look exhausted.”

“I am.”

She touches his cheek.  The bags under his eyes aren’t pronounced to anyone else, but she sees them.  “The nightmares?”

“Just starting to return.  Whatever Dorian did when he saved me, kept the headaches and nightmares away for a while.  I’m not sure why.”

“You’ll have to ask him.  If you can get him separated from Bull long enough.”

He smirks, “That bad, huh?”

“I don’t think I’ve slept soundly in a month.”  She smiles.  “Take the rest of the day off.  We can cuddle and have a good long nap.”

“I think you need to bathe first.”

“Mmmm.  That sounds nice… Wait.  Did you just say that I smell?”

He kisses her.  “Your words not mine.”  She playfully hits him in the arm.  “Oh.  You wound me.”

She backs away from him and takes his hand.  “Are you coming or not?”

“Yes, but let me…”

“Oh no you don’t.  I haven’t seen you in over two months.  You are taking the rest of the day off.  That’s an order.”

He smirks.  “Well… if it’s an order.”

He laces his fingers in hers and she leads him from his office.  She pauses at Solas’s desk.  “Hey.  Remind me to talk to you about some weird fade rift stuff tomorrow.  I need your opinion on it.”  Cullen feels a little strange bring led around the castle with their hands linked together.  Especially when she is handling Inquisitor business.  Greeting nobles and other random people as she passes through the throne room.  Feeling their eyes follow them as they head for her quarters.  But he never removes his hand from hers.  He can’t.

She leads him up the stairs and points to her bed.  “Sit.  I’ve got to do something.  It’ll only take a second.”  She all but skips over to her desk and picks up her quill.  She scribbles a note and blows on it to dry it off.  “Hold that.”  She hands him the note as she opens the wardrobe.

_The Inquisitor and The Commander are not available._

_Take ALL business to Seneschal Cassandra._

_Disturb at your own risk._

He smiles.  “You know what people will say about this.”

She emerges from the wardrobe, dagger in hand, “Who cares?  I don’t.  Maker help whomever knocks on that door.”  She takes the note from him and runs down the stairs.  She opens the door, presses the note to the outside of it, and stabs the dagger into the note and wood to hold it in place.  She closes and bolts the door.  She runs back up the stairs and unhooks the rope from the bell.  “There.  Alone at last.”

“If you don’t want to be disturbed, how are you going to get your bath going?”

“Already taken care of.  Also,” she motions to the other side of the wardrobe.  Two armor forms are standing beside it.  “Now, we don’t have to just leave our armor all over the floor.”

“Is this meeting clothing optional?”

“I mean… if you want.  I do have clothes in the wardrobe for you.”

He stands and goes over to her.  “I leave that decision to you.”

She closes the wardrobe and smiles.  “Definitely clothing optional.”

He kisses her neck and chuckles.  She ruffles his hair and starts removing her armor.  He does the same.  They both place their armor on the stands.  She takes off her breast band and underwear throws them in a basket next to the stands.  He does the same.  She takes his hand and leads him to the bath tub.

She chuckles to herself as she leads him.

“Find something amusing?”

“A little.  I’m not sure how to put it in words.  This just feels so… casual.”

He smiles, “I know what you mean.”

She steps into the bath and he steps in right after her.  They bathe in blissful silence.  Once clean, he pulls her close to him.  She turns her back to him and leans against him.  He envelops her in his arms.  She sighs.  “I could stay here forever.”

“The water with get cold eventually.”

“Not what I meant.”

“I know.”  He kisses her cheek.  “I feel the same way.”

“Just you and me.  No distractions.  Nothing to worry about.  Do you think it’ll be like this once this is all over?”

“I certainly hope so.”  She runs her wet hands up his arms.  He hugs her tighter.  Her mark flares and she squeezes his arm.  She stiffens and breathes deep and slow.  Once it calms down, he kisses her neck.  “When did that start again?”

She sighs.  “After our fight at the ritual tower in the Western Approach.”

He takes her marked hand and turns it palm up.  The glow from the flare up is slowly fading.  He runs his finger across it and she flinches.  “Still hurts?”

“A little.  It’s more sore than anything.  It was worse before our pit stop in the Emerald Graves.”

“You didn’t talk about that in your letters.”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

He chuckles, “I will always worry.”

“Then I didn’t want to worry you more.”

“Shea.”  She turns slightly to look at him.

“Please don’t start.”

“I wasn’t…”

“You have that tone.  Like you’re about to scold me for keeping this from you.”

“I… I wasn’t about to scold you.  I just don’t want there to be secrets between us, that’s all I was going to say.”  She unwraps his arms from around her and stands.  She grabs at towel off the shelf and steps out of the tub.  “Shea.”  She walks out of the room and goes to stand in front of the fire, dripping water on the floor as she goes.  He stands and wraps a towel around himself and chases after her.  “Shea, what did I say?”

“I’m sorry.  I have a hard time believing what you said.  And I know I’m being irrational about this and I promised I’d let you take your time.  But…”

He sighs, “Oh.  That.”

“Yes. That.”  She turns to face him.  “I know it’s painful and I know you aren’t ready.  I’m not sure why I’m letting it get to me.  This isn’t new.  It’s been… like this since the beginning.  All those months ago.  I just…”  She trails off her anger ebbing.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just… tired, I guess.”

He places his hands on her arms.  “Your curiousity is understandable.”  He takes a deep breath.  “What would you like to know?”

She looks up at him, “What?  Really?”

“I’m not sure how much I can get through, but for you, I’ll try.”

She touches his face.  “I… no.  This should be on your schedule, not mine.”

He turns his head to kiss her palm.  “Let’s dry off.  And then we’ll talk.  This bothers you.  I know it does.  And… though it’s painful to remember, I… I want you to know… everything about me.  Why I’ve made the choices I have.  Why I left the templars.  Everything.”

“If you aren’t ready…”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be fully prepared to relive… my past.”

“We don’t have to…”

He takes her hands.  “Shea.  You’ve kept nothing from me.  At least, I don’t think you have.”

She thinks for a moment, “I don’t think I have.”

“Then… it’s only fair…”

“Cullen.  I don’t want to cause you pain.”

He smirks, “You’ve never caused me pain.”

She sighs, “Haven.  My drunken ramblings on the battlements.  Every time I leave.  That time I bit you.”

He laughs, “I did deserve that last one.  But the rest… none of those things affected me more than Haven.  They are small in comparison.  But even Haven wasn’t your fault.”

“But I…”

He presses his finger against her lips.  “Hush.  We’re having this conversation.  As best as I can.  And that’s the end of it.”  He turns his back to her.  He dries off, tosses the towel on the floor, and climbs under the covers.  He leans against the headboard and pats the spot next to him.  She quickly dries herself and climbs in next to him.  She positions herself so that she can see his face.  “Ask away.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

He thinks a moment and feels his head throb.  He’s not sure how much he’ll be able to say, but he’d do anything for her.  “After my training, I was stationed in Kinloch Hold.  Nothing too exciting happened for a good long while.  I met Danielle when she was an apprentice.  I was present during her harrowing…”

“What is that exactly?”

“You don’t know?”

She shakes her head.  “The inner workings of a circle are unknown to me.  Every time I’d ask, I’d be told ‘you’ll learn when you get older’.  Since my training never happened, I never learned.  And even then, the circles had already fallen.”

“To become a full-fledged mage, an apprentice goes through a harrowing.  It’s their final test.  And it’s more than just pass or fail.  It’s life or death.  The apprentice gets sent into the fade, where a demon waits for them.  They either defeat the demon or… become abominations.  Those not strong enough to resist the demon are killed.  For that reason, templars are always in attendance.  Danielle’s was my first.”

“And… you were going to be the one to…”

“Yes.  That was my job.”

“But you too were together.  Would you have been able to…?”

He shrugs.  “I don’t know.  Thankfully, I didn’t have to find out.  She passed.  Passing made our relationship easier, she had more freedoms.  She wasn’t watched as closely.  It was still forbidden, but easier.  Shortly thereafter, she was conscripted and left the circle.”

“Why was she conscripted?  The stories never said.”

“She was close with another apprentice.  He was in love with a chantry initiate and they wanted to run away together.  He played on her relationship with me.  He used her, set her up.  Made it look like her idea.  The punishment for destroying a phylactery and helping a maleficar escape was either tranquility or death.  Duncan, a Grey Warden, conscripted her to protect her.”

“How did it end with her?”

“I… I was waiting for her when she went to gather her things.  I condemned her actions.  She tried to explain, but I wouldn’t listen.  She set a blood mage free and I… couldn’t see past it.  Even if she was tricked, she knew it was wrong, but did it anyway.”

“You were young and dedicated to the Order.”

“Need I remind you that you are but a year older than I was then?  Age wasn’t part of it.  I was blinded by my… templar ideals.  There was no grey area.  The rules were simple.  Any mage who broke them deserved their fate.”

“But you broke a rule.  An important one.”

“I paid for that later.”  He squeezes the bridge of his nose.

“Are we getting into dangerous territory?”

“Yes.  Things fell apart in the circle after that.”

“The Blight?”

“No.  We… had our own problems.”

She runs her fingers through his hair.  She can see the pain in his eyes.  “Lay down.”  He lays his head in her lap and she plays with his hair.

“Mmmm… that’s nice.”

“How’s your head?”

“Throbbing.”

“Then maybe we should stop for now.”

“There’s so much more…”

“I know, but we can pace ourselves.  Just a little at a time.  You can skip around if you like.  Talk about the not so painful stuff then go back.”

“Alright.”  He closes his eyes.  She continues playing with his hair.  He feels stronger around her.  Safe, protected.  This feeling also makes him feel braver, more courageous.  His mind is protesting, but if he follows her strategy, maybe he can get through it.  “Um… A… The tower was… it had…”  He sighs.

“Do you want to talk about something else?”

“I… no.  I’ll skip this part though.”

“I’m here.  You’re with me.  You’re safe with me.  I won’t let anyone or anything harm you.”

He opens his eyes and sees the love in her eyes.  “You are so beautiful.”

“Thank you.”  She brushes her finger down his scar.  “Though maybe we should take a break.  Change the subject for a while.  You’re starting to sweat.”

“Am I?”  He touches his forehead.  “So, I am.”  He closes his eye.  She rubs his temples and lets him focus on breathing.  “I fear the nightmares will be worse tonight.”

“How so?”

“They always are when I… try to dig at the past.  I think it might be helping to talk about it though.”

“Good.”  She looks out the window.  “The sun will be setting soon.”

“Is there something on your mind?”

She sighs, “I didn’t want to talk about work.”

“If it’s bothering you…”

She kisses his forehead.  “It is, but we’re escaping remember?”

“Shea.  If you need to…”

“I know.  All my concerns can be discussed tomorrow.  It’s going to be a long meeting.”

He reaches up to stroke her face.  “If that’s what you want.”

She sighs again and looks back out the window.  “I’m scared.  And angry.  And… I’m about to ask a lot of the Inquisition, of your men.  And I know it’s the right thing to do, but…”

He sits up and turns to face her.  “My men know what they are fighting for.  And they know that you would rather risk your own life than theirs.  We will follow you.  You need not fear asking us to do so.  They know the risks, but if we can help you save the world from itself and Corypheus, we will not hesitate.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”

He smirks.  “That’s because you, my dear, are a worrier.  I think you might worry more than I do.”

She smiles, “You’re probably right.”

“I know I am.”  He kisses her.  She leans into the kiss, threading her fingers into his hair.  He wraps his arms around her and runs them up her back.  Their bodies press together.  She breaks the kiss, turning her head and yawning.

“I’m so sorry.”  He yawns in response.  He rolls on to his back with her still in his arms.  She unwraps his arms and rolls onto her side.  He turns on his side to face her.  She runs her fingers through his hair.  “Does your head still hurt?”  He nods.  “Then come here.”  She pulls his face down to settle against her chest.  He snakes his arms around her waist and buries his face between her breasts.  She weaves her legs with his and plays with his hair.  A draft of cold air brushes against his back.  He pulls the covers over their heads.  He hugs her tightly and smiles against her.  “Why are you smiling?”

“I’m surrounded by your breasts.  What’s not to smile about?”

She laughs.  She rests her chin to top of his head and closes her eyes.  His fingers trace patterns on her the small of her back.  She kisses the top of his head and threads her fingers into his hair.  Her eyes slowly close.  “Don’t let me over sleep.”

“I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“Unless you over sleep too.”

He chuckles, “Right.  But I’ll do my best.”  He feels her slowly go limp with sleep in his arms.  He stays in his spot for a while, waiting for her to be fully under.  Once he’s sure she’s completely out, he breathes against her chest, “I love you.”  He drifts off to sleep, letting his blissful happiness wash over him.  Even if the nightmares do come, he will have her to calm him when he wakes.  And that is always something he’ll look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think they might be the fluffiest pair that ever fluffed lol
> 
> What do you think?
> 
> UPDATED July 22, 2018


	37. A Girl Worth Fighting For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift
> 
> Nightmares and Fluff

The nightmare starts off as it always does.  Danielle, the short haired blonde mage, comes walking out of the darkness.  There are a few big differences this time.  He is in his office at Skyhold and everyone involved are their present day ages.  This difference instantly signals that this is not a sex dream as he is usually lulled into believing.  As she approaches him, one of the side doors to his office opens and Bethany Hawke walks through, Hawke’s raven haired younger sister.  They are both smiling at him.  He fights to wake himself.  Whatever they have planned isn’t going to be enjoyable.

They say at the same time, “You broke our hearts, Cullen.” 

He backs into the wall and shakes his head.  “No.  This isn’t real.”

They continue slinking towards him, “We loved you.”

“No.  Just leave me.”

They stand on either side of him.  “We loved you and you abandoned us.”  He covers his ears and sinks to the floor.  “Did you even love us?  Do you even care that you ruined our lives?”

“Stop!  Go away!”

A familiar voice cuts through the chaos.  “Cullen?”  He looks around.  Danielle and Bethany are gone.  His office is gone.  Nothing but blackness surrounds him.  “Cullen?  Where are you?”

“Shea?  How?”  He slowly stands.

He realizes she’s calling for him, searching.  “Cullen?  Cullen?”

Her voices rips him apart.  She sounds lost and scared.  He takes a few tentative steps forward.  Her voice echoes around him, calling his name over and over.  He can’t determine where it’s coming from.  Every time he takes a step towards it, it moves.

Some unseen force knocks him backwards.  He lands on his back.  A tiny light appears.  It dances around the edges of the vision.  Her voice is louder now, “Cullen?  Damn it!  Where are you?!”

He tries to call out to her, but finds he has no voice.  He lets out a soundless scream.

The light explodes, blinding him.  A weight presses down on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.  Severe pain ripples through him.  He tries to cry out, but he has no air.  He’s choking.  Footsteps rush towards him.

“Cullen!  Stay still!”

He feels the weight slowly being lifted.  Her faces appears in front of him.  There is blood smeared all over it.  He tries to speak.

“Save your strength.  Don’t try to move.”  She looks behind her, “Someone help me!”  She touches his face, “Just hang on.  Alright.”

“What’s happening?  Shea?”

“Shh.  Don’t speak.”  She looks around again.  “Hurry up!  Damn it!”

He goes to reach for her, but his arms feel heavy.  Too heavy to lift.  “Shea?”

“Don’t you die on me!  Not now!”

His head swims.  He’s dying?  He looks down at himself.  He is covered in rubble.  There are large pieces of stone pinning him to the ground.  He looks back at her.  Tears are cutting lines into the blood on her face.  Is that her blood?  His?  She struggles to free him.  The light starts to recede.  Blackness licking at the edges of his sight. Her blue eyes shine down into his.  “Please.  Stay with me.  Help is coming.  We’ll heal you.  You’ll be fine.  Just… hang on.”

The last thing he sees as the darkness closes in are her eyes.  Deafening laughter rings in his ears.

He sits up quickly.  Blinking in the darkened room.  His breathing is shallow and panicked.  He is covered in sweat.  He looks around.  He’s back in her quarters.  The sun has not yet risen.  Sometime in the night, they shifted positions.  She is laying next to him on her stomach.  Her arms are shoved under her pillow.  The only part of her covered by the blanket is her butt and one leg.  He hesitantly touches her bare back.  He can’t decide if this is real, or just another dream.

It’s definitely more peaceful than his dreams.    She stirs slightly beneath his hand.  He focuses on her breathing, feeling her back rise and fall.  She turns her head, her face covered in hair.  “Cullen?”

“Shh.  I didn’t mean to wake you.”  He brushes the hair from her face.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes.  Just go back to sleep.”

She pushes herself onto her side and opens her eyes.  “Are you sure?”  She presses her warm fingers against his face. 

He smiles, _definitely not dreaming._ “I’m fine now.  Go back to sleep.”

“Do you need to talk about it?”  He shakes his head.  She laces her fingers with his.  “Well, I’m here...” she yawns, “If you need me.”

“I know.”  He kisses her forehead and she closes her eyes.  Within seconds, she’s asleep again.  He watches her sleep for a while.  He brushes his finger along her jaw.  He knows he won’t be able to go back to sleep, but watching her makes him feel calm.  He lays down on his side.  He kisses the back of her hand, still holding his.  He is surprised when his eyes start to drift closed.  He is hesitant, but he lets sleep take him.

***

When he wakes again, the room is still dark.  For the short time he was asleep again, it was at least restful.   His is still holding her hand.  She has returned to sleeping on her stomach, her face pointed towards him, her hair covering it.  He is content to just watch her sleep.  She needs the rest and she still has time.  She might as well enjoy it.

Instead of being idle in his staring, he thinks about the day to come.  They will be planning their attack on Adamant Fortress, an ancient Grey Warden stronghold, all morning.  This will be the Inquisition’s first big move as a military force.  A lot is riding on him and his soldiers, but he feels ready.  He figures that the Wardens will have every type of opponent, mages, warriors, rogues, and now demons.  It bothers him that they are attacking them, but they have little choice if their minds are being controlled by Corypheus.  If the siege goes well and they win, he wonders what Shea will decide to do with them.  He is a little torn himself.  Grey Wardens are needed to fight future Blights, but if Corypheus caan corrupt and control them, maybe they should be exiled to Weisshaupt, their headquarters in the Anderfels, until he is defeated.

The reports about their activities in the Western Approach don’t sit well with him.  It picks at his mind, reminds him of his past, and opens him up to his deep seeded trust issues with some mages.  Demons never help anyone.  Never.  Despite their motivations, this is not the way to go.  On top of that, he worries they might be too late.  It takes longer to march on army than ride there on horseback.  They have a head start and every Grey Warden in Orlais will probably be at Adamant.  There are a lot of unanswered questions and variables that makes this whole thing feel uneasy.  Their biggest advantage is that the walls are ancient and not built to hold against modern siege equipment.

He looks out the window to see the sun slowly breaking through the clouds.  Dawn has arrived.  He looks over at Shea, sleeping so solid and peacefully.  He hates to wake her, but he made a promise.  He pushes her hair behind her ear.  He leans in close and whispers, “Shea.”  He kisses her neck.  “Shea.”  She stirs and groans softly.  He kisses her shoulder.  “Wake up.” She groans again.  He kisses between her shoulder blades. “Shea.”  She tries to bat him away.  He takes her hand and kisses each finger.  “It’s morning.”

She mumbles into her pillow, “Fuck morning.”  He smiles.  He softly kisses each part of her hand, then up her arm.  She groans.  “Stop it.  I’m sleeping.”

He kisses the back of her neck and nibbles her ear.  “Shea.”  She rolls onto her side, her back to him.  She curls up in a ball and covers her face with her pillow.  He runs his finger up her spine.  She softly growls.  He presses his lips between her shoulder blades.  He breathes against her.  He reaches down to her ankle and lets his fingers trail up the side her leg, up her hip, and then up her side.  She groans and shifts under his touch.  He breathes into her back, “Shea.”  She removes the pillow from her face and rolls onto her back.  She throws her arm over her eyes.

“I hate you.”

He smirks and traces the scar on her thigh.  “No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.  You’re evil.”

He rests his head on her shoulder.  His fingers trail across her skin, they travel up her leg and then across her stomach.  He stops.  He sits up and looks down at her.  “When did you get this?”

She slowly uncovers her eyes.  She looks down at his hand tracing a small scar on her waist just left of the navel.  “It’s part of a set.”

“Excuse me?”  She rolls onto her right side, her back towards him.  She takes his hand and places it on her back.  On the exact opposite side of her body from the first new scar is a second scar.  They are the same size and shape.  “When…?”

She rolls back onto her back.  “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?  That looks like someone ran you through.”

She sighs, “We were on our way To Val Royeaux from a small port near the Storm Coast.  My armor needed to be cleaned and dried.  It was the first night since leaving that I had even taken it off.  I was alone.  The boys were already asleep.”

“You never said anything about being attacked.”

“It was an isolated incident that I handled it.  Didn’t think it needed to be reported.”

He makes her look at him.  “What happened?”

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Stop saying that.”

“It’s the truth though.  Just an angry sailor, who was pissed that I beat him at Wicked Grace.  Said I used magic to cheat him.  Which obviously isn’t true.”

“So he attacked you?”

She looks away.  “Well, not right away.”

“Shea this is driving me crazy.  Can you please just tell me the whole story?”

She sits up.  “Ok.  Ok.  So, we board this ship.  Just barely big enough to house the crew, our horses, and us.  I paid the captain a shitload of money to let us rent his cabin for the trip instead of sleeping with horses below decks.  He happily agreed.  I changed out of my armor so I could clean it.”

“You actually brought a change of clothes?”

She shrugs, “You never know when you need to play the helpless damsel on the road.  That and I figured I’d need a break from my armor at some point.  The ship seemed like the safest place to do that.”  He motions for her to continue.  “So, I get changed, get my armor cleaned.  I go to check on the boys and they are all below decks with the crew.  Varric started it, of course.  Trying to win some of the coin back from renting the ship and cabin.”

“And you used your womanly ways to win.  Like you did in the tavern that night?”

“Hey.  If you’ve got the tools.”  He laughs.  “So, yeah.  I won.  Everything seemed fine.  We had drinks and had a merry old time.  Hell, some of the men said it was worth it to lose just to get a look at me.”  She notices his face getting red.  “Hey. Hey.  Just remember, I’m yours.  They can look all they want, but there’s only one person who can touch me.”

“Damn right.”

“Everyone turns in, but I can’t sleep.  The game reminded me of you, so I went topside to sharpen my axe.  Hoping the sea breeze would clear my head enough.  I’m sitting there minding my own business, when this guy comes charging up to me, with a harpoon.  He starts calling me a witch and saying that I cast some spell to make me win.  I set my axe down and I tried to tell him I wasn’t a mage.  Then the mark chose that exact moment to flare.  He caught me off guard.  With the pain in my hand, I couldn’t knock it away in time.  I did attempt to dodge so it didn’t hit anything vital.”

“I hope you killed him.”

“Of course, I did.  I hung him with the rope attached to the harpoon.”

“With it still…”

“Yep.  It had gone all the way through.  I didn’t even think.  I just wrapped the rope around his neck and kicked him overboard.”

“Wait.  How…?”

“I realized what I had just done and that he was… attached to me.  I wrapped the rope around my arm to keep it from ripping the harpoon out.  Got a nasty rope burn but somehow it worked.  It’s at this point that I have no idea what to do.  I’m in a lot of pain and now I’m dangling a dead man off this side of a ship.  I call out, hoping someone hears me.  Luckily Bull and the captain heard me.  It took them a minute to figure out what was going on, but they cut the guy loose.  I passed out before I saw how they got the harpoon out.  But with Dorian dead to the world, it had to heal on its own.  Thus scars.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t put all that in a report.”

“We don’t write reports for every little injury we have on the field.  You know that.  Plus, I knew you’d worry too much.  I’m fine.  It’s fine.  Nothing to worry about.”

He sighs, “I just know how you feel about scars.”

She shrugs, “Honestly?  I’m kinda over it.  They were bound to happen at some point in my life, no sense crying over each one.  Also, it’s hard to complain when Bull takes his eye patch off.  Bleh.”  She shivers.  “And you don’t seem to mind them.  So why should I?”  She runs her finger down his scar and then kisses it.  He smirks.

“You know, it’s just occurred to me that you’ve never asked where I got this one.”

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“I have so many, but this is the only one I can tell you the exact moment it happened.  Well, the only one I can actually talk about.”

“Really?”

He smirks, “But you’re going to have to wait until after we get the business of the day out of the way.”  She groans and falls back on the bed.

“You’re evil.  Evil, I say.”

He laughs and leans down.  He kisses her. “Come on.  The sooner this is done…”  She grabs his face and kisses him passionately.  He smirks against her mouth.  “This won’t work.”

She growls and releases him.  “Ugh.  Fine.”  She throws back the covers and goes over to wardrobe to get ready for the long day ahead.

***

The war council drags on and on.  She doesn’t know anything about moving an army or siege weapons or anything useful for this meeting.  Just her first hand encounter with the Tevinter mage who messed up her mark.  She tries to focus on the meeting, to learn what she can, but her mind is elsewhere.  She keeps staring at him.  Moving pieces around the map, talking strategy.

It will be up to her to decide what to do with the Wardens, if they survive.  She doesn’t know what she will do.  Blackwall will probably want her to help them, bring them into the Inquisition.  Who better to fight a darkspawn magister?  But they are corrupted by him, he has twisted them, preyed upon their taint and fear.  They think they are ending the Blight, forever, but instead they will be laying waste to the whole of Southern Thedas and are too blind to see it.  If she can get through to them, then maybe she can save them from themselves, but there are too many risks, too many unanswered questions that need to be answered first.

She had read stories of the Wardens.  They are legends, heroes.  She admires them and their sacrifices to end the Blights.  She wonders if the Queen of Ferelden is affected.  Maybe she should write to King Alistair to find out.  Maybe Leliana could get her a message.

She looks at Cullen again.  He seems so confident about their victory, but men will be lost.  Good men.  She knows it is the reality of war, but she hates that more people have to die in their fight to defeat Corypheus.  Would he be there?  If not, where is he? 

He can tell she isn’t keeping up with all this.  She is going through the motions, nodding, pointing out stuff now and then, maybe asking a question now and again, but something else is going on in her mind.  He can’t tell from her expression what it is.  She looks a little overwhelmed, but that is the only visible sign.  Her poker face has improved since her first war council.

He could ask her about it, but he figures that if she needs to talk about it, she’ll come to him.  He has that feeling in him he always gets before going off to battle.  Excitement mixed with a touch of anxiety.  Men and women are going to die, on both sides, but they know what is at stake.  One thing that sticks out to him as a little bonus is that he will be in the field with her again.  It feels like a lifetime ago since he met her in battle and is looking to forward to see how her style has changed and improved.

With their plans solidified, Leliana has one more order of business for Shea.  It is fairly urgent, but Cassandra didn’t know how to handle it.

“How long ago did we get this?”

“The day before you arrived back in Skyhold.”

“So our ambassador thinks the Tevinter advisor in Wycome is Venatori?”

Josephine nods, “She believes she can come to a peaceful…”

Leliana cuts her off, “If this advisor is Venatori, then he must be eliminated.  He is probably trying to turn the humans against the elves, and that includes our new Dalish allies.”

Shea holds up her hand.  “This is an easy decision.  When the Venatori are involved, it is never good.  Take him out.  And also find out what’s causing this sickness.”  They nod.  “I have a hard time believing Cassandra had a hard time deciding this.  What’s the real reason?”

Cullen chimes in, “She was worried about Moira.  She was worried that whatever she chose would put her in danger.  I tried to assure her that this was what you’d say, but making this choice made her uneasy.”

“I see.  Well, it’s handled now.  Hopefully, once the humans aren’t getting sick anymore, then the elves might be safe.  Anything else?”  They shake their heads, “Great.  Then make your preparations.  We march in the morning.”

Shea doesn’t wait for Cullen when the meeting is over.  She knows he has a lot to do and she has some business of her own to handle.  The first of which is writing her letter to the King of Ferelden.  She climbs the stairs to her quarters and sits at her desk.  She flattens a piece of paper in front of her and picks up her quill.  She isn’t completely sure what she’ll say or if he’ll even be happy to hear from her.  They didn’t exactly meet and leave on the best of terms.

 

_King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden,_

_I hope all is well in Denerim. If the Inquisition can be of any help, please let us know._

_I am aware when we met in Redcliffe, it didn’t end on the best of terms.  However, I’m reaching out to you because I know you were Grey Warden, as is you’re Queen.  Recent events have made me concerned for the both of you.  I’m not sure if you’ve heard any news out of Orlais, more specifically the Western Approach, but…_

_I apologize.  I’m not sure how to put all this into words._

_Have you or the queen heard the calling recently?  It seems Wardens all over Southern Thedas are hearing it, but it’s a false calling.  Corypheus, the monster responsible for the Divine’s death and explosion at the conclave, is using it to manipulate them with the help of a Tevinter cult known as the Venatori.  I want to make sure that both of you are safe and I want you to know that we’re trying to remedy the situation._

_We’re marching on Adamant Fortress.  I have mixed feelings about this naturally, but it must be done.  Corypheus is creating an army of demons using the Warden Mages.  This must be stopped.  I’ll will update you when… if we are successful._

 

She pauses and considers if she should just end it there.  But something of a personal nature is eating at her.  She throws caution to the wind and returns to the page.

_I also have a personal matter I wish to discuss with you.  I know most people don’t like to look back on their time during the Blight, but I have some questions regarding the events at Kinloch Hold.  I know the Blight didn’t affect them directly, but someone close to me was… well, honestly I’m not sure what happened as he won’t talk about it.  In fact, I’m almost certain he’d be furious if he knew I was asking about this._

_He was a… friend of…_

She pauses again.  Maybe he shouldn’t know that she knows his wife is a mage.  No one was supposed to.  It also might not be good to mention that his wife had an affair with Cullen.

_He was a templar in the circle during the Blight and I’m concerned that whatever happened to him might not have been completely taken care of.  I’m not claiming to be an expert on The Fade or demons, but he fears his own memories.  Meaning it’s not just that he doesn’t like talking about it, he gets headaches and nightmares if a subject even comes close.  In order to help him, I need to know what happened._

_I understand if you don’t know or… and I understand it’s a lot of a stranger to ask, but any help you could give me would be greatly appreciated._

_I’m sending this using my personal raven, her name is Sky, and she will stay until you either send her away or have a response you’d like to send.  It will come straight to me and bypass my spymaster, whom I believe you know.  I’m sure Leliana would like me to send her regards.  She spoke highly of you when she regaled me with her stories of the Hero of Ferelden._

_Again, if you need assistance of any kind, do not hesitate to ask._

_Sincerely,_

_Inquisitor Shea Trevelyan_

She blows on the paper to make the ink dry faster.  She goes down the stairs and bypasses the throne room door.  After Cullen told her about the secret entrance, she’s been keeping her own raven in the stairwell and having a servant care for it in secret.  She picks up the cage and returns to her room.  She opens the door and the raven hops out onto her desk.  She rolls up the paper and slides in the silver tube on the raven’s leg.  “Denerim Royal Palace.”  The raven takes flight and soars through her open window.

She feels a little less stressed as she watches the raven disappear on the horizon.  She knows she should wait for Cullen to tell her what happened, but she wants to ease his suffering.  Not that she has any idea of how to do that, but having more information will help.

She turns away from the window.  She has more work to do and little time to do it.  She has an invasion to help organize and that’s not something she can put off.

She buzzes around Skyhold making sure Cassandra is prepared to run it while she, the Commander, and most of their forces are gone.  She goes to check on Blackwall.  He wants to come and she is not about to deny him that.  She finds it slightly strange that every Warden is hearing the calling but him, but she pushes it from her mind.  She should be relieved that she doesn’t have to worry about him.

As night falls, Shea finds herself standing in the valley below Skyhold.  Cullen in issuing orders to his officers.  Tents are being set up for the night.  This must mean they are camping in the valley, which means he’ll be right there with them.  It is not as cold as it usually is.  The snow has stopped falling.  If she had to guess she’d say spring is upon them.  In the mountains, that doesn’t mean much, but the trip to Adamant won’t be so bad.

He doesn’t notice her right away.  He’s busy.  She understands and is actually enjoying the leisure time she has to observe him.  It feels like forever since she’s watched him work.  Rylen, who has come in from his new post in the Approach to aid with the attack, taps him on the shoulder and points her out.  He finishes issuing an order and walks over to her.

“Did you need something, Inquisitor?”

She smirks, “Going my titles today, Commander?”

He rubs his neck, “Well… I have been working all day.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“It’s not a problem.  I welcome the distraction, actually.”

“Have you eaten?”  He thinks a moment.  “I’ll take that as a no.”

“I have a thousand things to do.  Must have slipped my mind.”

She steps closer to him, “I know I’ll be spending the night alone tonight, but would you have dinner with me?  If you can spare the time, that is.”

He smiles, “I’d like that.”

“Great!  When do you think you could get away?”

He looks behind him.  “An hour?  Once the camp is set up and patrols are going, I should be able to get free.  Where should I meet you?”

“I’m sure you have more work to do so… your office?  Maybe I can help get somethings taken care of while we eat.”

He smirks, “It’s not an escape, if I’m still working.”

“The tavern then?”

“Sounds good.”

She kisses his cheek.  “See you then.  I’ll be waiting.”

His cheeks redden and he turns back to his men.  She goes back up the stairs and heads for the tavern.  On the eve of battle, she’s sure it’ll be packed, so she wants to get there early to find a secluded spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to go down. Some pretty awful things.
> 
> UPDATED July 22, 2018


	38. Fade Into Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: So things get really dark in this chapter. I wanted to explore a darker side to Shea’s past and The Nightmare demon provided the perfect opportunity. If you are at all disturbed by violence, rape, etc. Then you might wanna skip this chapter. Or at least skip the section I’ve marked as the danger zone. This will be affecting future chapters but it’s pretty graphic in this section.
> 
> *** time/pov shift  
> ++++++++++ danger zone

She stands alone in a darkened field.  The stars and moon providing the only light.  Her axe is in her hand.  She is winded and exhausted.  A circle of bodies surround her.  She doesn’t want to look too closely at them as her senses a tingle like live wires at some danger lurking in the shadows.  The feeling doesn’t pass, but nothing comes for her.  Still feeling on edge, she allows herself to look around.  She lets out a scream as her eyes fall upon the bodies.  Her friends, laying dead and broken around her.  Her axe drips with blood.  Why?  Did she do this?

Her eyes adjust more to the dim light and she extends her gaze.  A ring of enemies, wardens, mages, templar, and the smoking husks of demons that haven’t disappeared into the fade surround her and her friends.  She is the sole survivor.  She drops her axe and rushes forward. 

Vivienne has been strangled by the templar she was trying to freeze.  Blackwall lies face down with arrows sticking out of his back.  Sera is laying next to him, her clothes and skin sizzling as if struck by lightning.  Cole’s eyes stare up at the sky, his skin ghostly pale and slightly transparent.  Iron Bull is leaning against Krem, shielding him to no avail.  His face slashed deep by claws.  Krem’s injuries mirror his.  Solas’s magic still radiates from him, stuck down by an axe mid cast.  Varric and Bianca are both scotched so badly she barely recognizes them.  Cassandra lays on her back still clutching the spear sticking out of her chest.  Dorian, his palms turned up with deep gashes along the palms, blood all around him.  Her heart sinks further from her as her eyes find Leliana and Josephine.  Why are they here?  They should be back at Skyhold.  There are no visible injuries, but they are certainly dead.

She frantically searches the bloody scene.  Searching for the person whose death will hurt her the most.  But she doesn’t find him.  Some distance away a red light draws her attention.  She looks up to the small hill.  A line of red templars have formed ranks.  Growling at her.  She grabs her axe from the ground and stands.  If this is her death, she will go down swinging.  The line parts and familiar figure walks between them.  Even at this distance, she knows who it is.  He walks towards her, his armor glittering with red lyrium and fresh blood.  The line doesn’t move as he walks towards her.  He sneers at her, the scar on his lip moving up with his lip.  Her eyes meet his.  They are no longer the warm honey they used to be.  They glow red.  The mark on her hand flares as her heart shatters.

“No.  No!  This can’t be…”

His voice sounds strange, angry and crackling, “This is all your doing.  You brought this upon us.”  He motions around them, surrounded by the bodies of their friends.  “If we had a better leader, none of this would have happened.”

“I… I didn’t do this.”

“Look at your Inquisition, Inquisitor.”  He points behind him.  Their army, their men, corrupted.

“No.  I refuse…”

“I let my lust for you blind me.  I should have known you were working for him.  An agent of The Elder One.  Though I suppose, we’re all his puppets now.  Thedas burns because of you.”

She backs away from him.  “I would never do that.  You know me.  You’ve always known me.”

“Oh, I _know_ you.  You use those who are weaker than you, exploit them, and turn them into this.”

“What are you saying?  That I gave you red lyrium?”

He laughs, “That’s exactly what I’m saying.  I believe your exact words were, ‘It’ll help you with your withdrawals.’  You lied to me.  I thought it was normal lyrium.  It wasn’t.”

“No.  This isn’t real.  I would never…”

He charges her and grabs her wrists, forcing her to drop her axe.  “Stop lying to me!  The Elder One has revealed everything to me.  I am _his_ Commander now.  He no longer needs you.”

“Cullen, please…”

He shoves her back.  She trips and falls.  She scurries back as he bears down on her.  “Death is too easy an escape for you.  But I have my orders.” He leaps on her, pinning her to the ground.  “It’s too bad really.  You’d look good with a little red in your eyes.” 

His hands wrap around her throat and squeeze.  She claws at his fingers.  The marks flares again, offering her a way out.  She presses her marked hand against the side of his face. She mouths, “I’m sorry.”  She activates the mark opening a fade rift inside his head before everything goes dark.

She sits up in bed and hugs her knees to her chest.  Tears are streaming from her eyes.  It is the worst nightmare she has had in her entire life.  She knows that it would never happen but she still needs to get these visions from her mind.  She squeezes her eyes closed and tries to picture him as he should be.  She imagines him standing at her open window, his golden hair moving in the breeze, his muscular body standing bare before her, his warm amber eyes shining back at her.  The setting sun dancing through his hair and across his skin.

She opens her eyes.  Though she feels batter, the room still feels empty.  She can’t remember if she’s ever woken up in Skyhold alone.  But as she watches the sun rise over the mountains, hugging her knees to her chest, she does.  Dinner was lovely, if not loud.  The tavern was a bad idea, but it was fun.  Her head is feeling the effects of the alcohol and the restless sleep she got.  She continues to gaze out the window as the sounds of a waking Skyhold drift through her window from far below.

The sound of the bolt to her door unlocking breaks her from her reverie.  She can’t bring herself to move, but she rests her cheek on her knees facing the stairwell.  She hears steps on the stairs and the first thing she sees is his blonde hair.  She smiles, already feeling lighter in his presence.

“Are you decent?”

“Would that stop you?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”  She watches a smile break across his face, then quickly fall away.  “What’s wrong?”

She runs her fingers through her wild mane and sighs.  “I… didn’t sleep well.”

“Neither did I.  I missed you.”

“You could have joined me.”

“I know.  Have you been crying?”

She wipes her cheeks.  “No.”

He sits in front of her on the bed.  “Care to talk about it?”

“I had… a horrific nightmare.  I…”

He takes her hand.  “I’m listening.  I know it helps you to talk things out.  Better yet.”  He stands and moves to sit and lean against the head board.  He stretches his legs out in front of him and pats his lap.  She lays her head in his lap, looking up at him.  He removes his gloves and plays with her hair.  She smiles.  “This helps me when I have a nightmare.  I figured it might help you.”

“You being here helps more than anything.  But yes, it does help.”  She sighs and closes her eyes.  She tells him of her nightmare.  Every so often, she’ll feel him wipe tears from her cheeks.  As she nears the end of her story, she rubs her marked hand.  She hesitates.  She feels him pause and tense when she tells him he was a red templar.  She sighs, she can’t bring herself to finish.  It hurts too much to think that they killed each other.

“Shea?”

“Hmm?”

“How did it end?”

“I… I don’t want to say.”

“Did… did I kill you?”

She nods.  “But I killed you too.”

He kisses her forehead.  “Do you have any idea what spurred this?”

She shakes her head and opens her eyes.  “Can we talk about something?  Anything else?”

He looks out the window.  The sun has risen over the mountains.  They should be leaving soon.  He sighs.  “We can talk on the road.  Josephine has insisted that you take a carriage, at least most of the way.  I don’t know why.  But she put her foot down.  I could ride with you.  You look like you could use a few more hours of rest.”

She nods.  “I am exhausted.”  She sits up and crawls into his lap.  She buries her face in the fur of his mantle.  He wraps his arms around her.

“Come on.  Let’s get you dressed.”  She stands and goes to her armor.  “What me to help?”

She smiles back at him, “Did you want to leave today?”

“Touché. I’ll just be over here then.”  He puts on his gloves and reclines on her bed.  Once she’s dressed, he stands and cups her face in his hands.  He rests his head on her forehead.  “I wish we were travelling together under better circumstances.”

“Seems like every time we travel is like that.”

“One day, we’ll have a nice trip.  Maybe after we get back?”

She brushes her nose against his.  “I’d love that.  But we must be cautious.  The last time we made travel plans of our own, Corypheus showed up.”

He chuckles, “Then we won’t plan.  We’ll just sneak away on day.”

“Sounds like not a plan to me.”

She presses up on her toes and he closes the rest of the distance.  They share a long passionate kiss.  She lowers herself back down and he takes her marked hand in his.  They lace their fingers together.

She smirks at him, “Are we about to walk into the throne room holding hands?”

He flashes her favorite half smile at her, “I’ve heard we’re an attractive pair.  And I’d hate to leave those staying without something to gossip about.”  They walk side by side down the stairs, headed off to war.

***

Adamant.  Just when you think things can’t get worse, they always do.  Corypheus doesn’t show, but his dragon does.  It takes a lot of fast thinking to save her party from falling to their deaths.  In fact, it is the nightmare she had that saved them.  In the nightmare, her mark flared as a warning, or that it could help.  She can’t really explain it, but after helping Shroud from failing only to have the bridge continue to crumble from under them, she has to do something.  If she doesn’t, she, Shroud, Hawke, Dorian, Varric, and Iron Bull would all be dead.  In that order.

She believes the old Chantry tails of the Old Gods entering the Fade physically and being punishes for it.  But again, she has no choice.  She thrusts her marked hand in front of her and makes the biggest rift she can.  And into the Fade they fall.

She stands and looks around her.  Making sure everyone made it.

“Shroud?”

He speaks from above her, “I’m… fine.”

“Hawke?”

He stands and looks around, “Also fine.”

“Dorian?”

Bull is wrapping a piece of cloth around his arm, “Are we in the Fade?”

“Varric?

He sighs, “Andraste’s ass.  What have you gotten us into this time?”

“Bull?”

“Stupid demon crap.”

She sighs.  “We’re all alive.  That’s something at least.”  Someone clears their throat from beside her.  She turns to the noise and gasps.  “Cullen?!  How…?!  What…?!”

“Some men and I chased after you when you went after Clarel.  The dragon separated me from them, but I kept going.  Got to the bridge just in time to fall into a fade rift.  I assume that is your doing?”

“You shouldn’t have…”  She takes his hand.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know what else to do.  It was this or death.  I chose this.”

Dorian laughs, “While this is preferable to death, I can’t help but feel like one of the old Tevinter Magisters who entered the fade and created the darkspawn.”

She shakes her head, “Let’s just hope that doesn’t happen.”

Varric wipes some green goo off of Bianca, “Any bright ideas on how to get out of here?”

They all look around.  Shea points.  “Look up there.”  They all turn to look.

Shroud nods, “If that’s the rift Erimond was trying to summon that large demon through, then it would lead to the main hall back at Adamant.”

Varric sighs, “Why do the things we need have to be so far up?”

Hawke chuckles, “Come on, Varric.  Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I didn’t enjoy my last trip to the Fade and I’m not enjoying this one either.  My kind aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Look on the bright side.  At least you aren’t possessed this time.”

“Not helping.”

Iron Bull grumbles, “Stupid fade crap.  Stupid demon crap.”

Dorian touches his arm, “Don’t worry, Amatus.  I’ll keep them away from you.”

Shea looks over at Cullen.  He nods to her.  “Alright.  Let’s not waste time then.”  She leads the group through the Fade.  They fend off demons and creepy representations of fear.  Shea reads every book, letter, or cast off information she can.  Solas once said that knowledge is power in the Fade. It cannot be controlled, but if you open yourself up to it, the Fade will help you.  Right after she has that thought, Cullen grabs her arm.  “What?”

He just points.  Standing in front of them is Divine Justinia.  “Maker… is that?”

Dorian stands beside her, “It’s probably just a spirit made to look like her.  Taking her form.”

Bull grumbles, “It could be a demon.”

Justinia smiles, “Inquisitor, I mean you know harm.  I am here to help you.”

“How do you know my title?  You weren’t…”

“Alive?  I have wandered the Fade and it feels your presence.  The spirits watch you with interest.  I have searched for a way to help you and I have found it.”

“But are you… her?”

“I am here to help.  What you believe I am or what I actually am, we do not have time to explore.  This is the lair of nightmares.  The demon who dwells here feeds on fear.  The false calling that tricked the Wardens, its work.  In order to escape this place, you must recover what was taken from you.”

“Taken from me?”

“Your memories.  What happened to you at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  Defeating the demons will help you recover them, but once you start The Nightmare will know you are here and it will fight back.  You must move quickly.”

“How will that help us?”

“If you remember what was lost to you, you will be stronger against it and he cannot use your fears against you.”

She glances at Cullen out of the corner of her eye.  He has some pretty nasty fears.  Could they be used against them?  “What of my friends?  How will I protect them from their fears?”

“The mark on your hand gives you the power to protect them.  They survive in the Fade because you do.  The stronger you become the more your presence in the Fade protects them.  Their fears will still exist and The Nightmare will try to toy with their minds, but you will have more control over this realm once your memories are yours again.”

“Then I know what I must do.  Thank you.”

“Be cautious, Inquisitor.  The Nightmare is an ally of Corypheus and will stop at nothing to defeat you here.  Be wary in trusting what you see.”

“Should I be wary of you then?”

Dorian chimes in, “If she were a demon, she would want something in return for helping us.  I believe that whatever she is, she means us no harm.”

“Go.  Gather your memories.  Once you’ve done that, I will prepare the way a head.”  Shea blinks and she’s gone.

“Well… shit.”

Varric chuckles, “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“Ok.  I’m not sure how exactly I’m supposed to keep your deepest darkest fears from being turned against you, but if we stick together and keep reminding ourselves that these things are not… real… which is not the right word, but it’s the best I can come up with, then we should be fine.  Stay alert and keep your wits about you.  Kill any and every demon as quickly and safely as possible.  I would advise not dying in the Fade.  Or at all, really.  Uh… yeah.  So let’s go.”

They kill the group of demons Justinia had mentioned and Shea uses the mark to absorb the memories left behind.  Much like when she approached the rift at the Temple, a bright light blinds them all once the memory fragments are collected.  Pain sears behind her eyes and she drops to her knees.

They all watch Grey Wardens use red magic to hold the Divine in place as Corypheus uses his orb to attack her.  Shea, unscarred in her borrowed clothes and her perfectly braided bun, comes running in.  Justinia knocks the orb from his hand and Shea picks it up.  She feels the mark burned into her hand and the Temple explodes.

She kneels and breathes for a moment.  The pain subsides.  Cullen places his hand on her back.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m… yes… I’m fine.  It’s just… I’m not…”

“It wasn’t the Marker who placed that mark on your hand.  It was Corypheus.”

She nods.  “I let myself believe.  Now… I’m just an accident.  Not chosen.”

He leans close to her whispering in her ear, “Even if you weren’t chosen, you kept him from gaining the power of the mark.  Your decision to rush in to help has saved countless lives.  Don’t let how the mark came to be on your hand distract you from the good you have done.”  He helps her stand.  He wipes a tear from her cheek.  He chuckles and then wipes off the fade goo he smeared on her face.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.  I’m so tired of all this bullshit.”

Bull grunts, “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

They continue their way through.  They encounter a small hoard.  After they are defeated Hawke says, “Why is it always spiders?”

She looks over at him, “Spiders?  That’s not what I saw.”

Bull grunts, “I would have taken spiders.”

She looks over at Cullen.  He is pinching the bridge of his nose.  A telltale sign that the past is coming to bite him.  She rushes to him.  “Hey.  It’s not real.  The demon is just messing with you.  They were just figments of your fear.  Look at me.”  He drops his hand and she grabs his face.  “Look in my eyes.”  He opens his eyes and her blue ocean eyes sparkle at him.  “I _am_ real.  I am here.  These fears will not hurt you.”

A booming voices echoes around them.  “How wrong you are, little girl.”

“Just keep looking at me.”

“Have you come to steal the fear that I kindly lifted from your shoulders?  Do you think that the pain will make you stronger?  Ah, but you are a guest in my home.  By all means, let me return what you have forgotten.”

They remain quiet.  The voices does not return.  Shea takes a deep breath, stealing herself for the trial that is to come.  “You still with me?”  He nods.  “Good.  Let’s keep it that way.  If you feel it coming back, I’m here.” He kisses her softly.  “Let’s keep moving.  I have no doubt that we will be taunted again.  Be prepared.”

They travel in silence.  Cullen stays close to Shea, feeling his nightmares stirring in his mind.  If she was not here, he wouldn’t survive.  He does worry, however, that the actual demon who hunts him in the Fade will find him.  He doesn’t know what he’ll do then.   He prays to all that is holy, that some of his luck will hold out.

They fight and press on.  Shea finds more memories.  She uses her mark to collect them.  She stands next to the last piece and looks around.  “Here we go.”  They are all blinded again as their vision fills with the memory.  Shea, as she was before, is running and desperately climbing a step set of Fade stairs.  Justina reaches down to her, “Hurry!”  Fear demons chase her.  She rushes towards the open rift and hears Justina scream.  She grabs her hand trying to save her.  Justina tells her to go and releases her hand.  Flying back and swarmed by the demons.  Shea takes one final look before leaping through the rift.

She pinches the bridge of her nose as the vision fades.  She sighs.  “So much for being the Herald of Andraste.  That whole thing has been proven false now.”

The Spirit of Justina appears before them.  “Now you know the truth.”

“The only thing I know for certain is that you… she died.  So are you her soul or a spirit taking her form?”

“Either story you tell, would be a good one.  But now you know how the mark came to be and how you escaped the Fade.  What you do with that information is up to you.”

“How does this help us?  I don’t feel stronger or less fearful.  You just shattered the faith of those of us who believed.”

“A herald can be many things.  I doesn’t have to be a herald of faith.  You are a herald of hope.  You have struggled with your own identity.  Remembering the actions that lead you here helps strengthen who you are and also gives you belief in yourself.  Make of that what you will.”

She vanishes.  Shea growls and kicks a fade rock.  It soars through the air, but doesn’t land.  “Stupid fade carp!”

Bull laughs, “That’s my line.”

The voice returns, “How does it feel to know you will end up exactly like your father, Dorian?”

Dorian rolls his eyes, “If that’s the best it can do, I’ll be fine.”

“And you, qunari, how do you think it will feel when one of my minions climbs inside to ride you around?  Maybe I’ll ride the bull myself before tearing your Kadan apart.”

Bull eyes narrow, “Oh, I’d like to see you try.”

The voices seem like it’s on a role.  It continues, “Once again you lead Hawke into danger.  You brought red lyrium upon the world.  Your brother paid the price as well as your beloved Kirkwall.”

“Keep talking, Smiley.”

The voice laughs.  They wait in silence.  The voice doesn’t return right away.  Shea leads them down the path, to a dead end.  She growls at turns to go back.  The voices booms loudly, “Warden Shroud.  How does it feel to devote your entire life to an order that has fallen?  Or worse, that you are the one responsible for its destruction?”

“I’ll be glad when we finally kill that thing.”

Hawke scoffs, “Assuming it can be killed.”

“Did you think it matter?  Did you think anything you did matter?  You couldn’t save you city.  Everyone you love will die.  Fenris, Bethany, Varric, Shea.  And they will all know that you failed them.”

“Does this thing ever shut up?”

“Hear that Hawke.  That thing says you love me.  I always knew you wanted to get with the dwarf.”

They both laugh.  Shea knows it coming.  Only two left.  She has no idea what it will pick for her, she has a pretty good idea.  But Cullen.  He’s already having a hard time.  They need to get out of there and fast.  “We need to hurry.”

Cullen nods, “Maker forbid that things turns its gaze on me.  I don’t think I’m strong enough to…”

“Give yourself some credit, Curly.  You haven’t fainted yet.”

Shea rushes forward.  She is practically running through the Fade.  She would go faster, but she can’t leave Varric behind.  She tries to clear her mind.  Let it empty completely.  She refuses to give this demon ammunition.  If she fears that Cullen will be next, he will be.  Solas voice enters her mind as she remembers a conversation she had with him, “The beings of the fade, spirits specifically, are drawn to positive emotions.  A Spirit of Wisdom will likely share its knowledge with someone who wishes to learn.  A Spirit of Faith might come to someone who needs guidance.  Negative emotions thus negatively impact the Fade.  Pride, despair, and desire are examples of these.  If one wishes to explore the Fade in dreams, they can keep these spirits at bay by maintaining a positive outlook.  Holding onto something that clears the mind and pushes the bad thoughts away.”

She stops dead in her tracks.  “Cullen look at me.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, but I have an idea.”

“Alright.”

She looks around at everyone, “I don’t care what that beast says to me.  I do not fear him.  He knows that all of you,” she looks at Cullen, “and you specifically, are the root of my fears.  If he can exploit you, he exploits me.  There’s reason he’s been saving Cullen for last.  It would hurt me the most.  But if what I have in mind works, he won’t be able to access Cullen’s fears at all.”

Dorian nods, “You were listening to Solas drag on and on about the Fade.”

“Cullen, look me in the eyes.”  He does.  “I mean really look.  Now.  What do you feel?”

“I…”  He glances toward the others.

“Eyes front, mister.  You don’t have to say it out loud.  But let your mind grab ahold of that feeling.  Focus on it.  Let nothing else enter your mind.  Are these emotions you are feeling positive?”

“Uh.  Well…”

She smiles, “Not that one.  Get rid of that one.  I know.  Think about the day we met.  That moment I ran into you.  There’s was some emotion in your eyes then.  Was it positive?”

“Yes.  It was.”

“Great.  Hold on to that.  Focus everything you have on that.  Keep playing that moment in your mind.    If you find that fighting demons breaks your focus, then stop fighting.  Get to a safe distance.  We can handle it.  And don’t argue with me.”  He closes his mouth, stopping his protest.  “Ready?” He nods.  “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

They continue on.  They can see the Spirit of the Divine ahead of them, waiting.  The voice roars, “You think you can out smart me, little girl!”  Shea tries to ignore it, but her feet skid to a stop.

“Why are you stopping?!”

“I’m not.”  Panic rises in her throat.  “Everybody get back.  I don’t know what’s about to happen.”

The mark flares and she drops to her knees.  Bull warps an arm around Cullen to stop him from running to her.  “Look away.  Do what she told you to.”  Cullen closes his eyes.  He can’t watch whatever torture she’s about to endure.

“Let me return some more of your memories since you want them so badly!”

Shea searches her mind.  “ _What memories?  I remember everything all the way back to when I was living in Ostwick?  What could I have possibly forgotten?”_   Light comes streaming into the mark.  She cries out in pain.  She presses on her hands into her temples, fighting against the invasion of her mind.

Cullen shouts over her screams, “How do we stop ourselves from seeing this vision she’s about to have?”

Dorian shouts back, “Concentrate on something else.  Anything else.  Bright happy things!”

Bull groans, “How am I supposed to think of anything happy in this place?”  Dorian leaps at him and kisses him hard.  They break apart for a moment, “That’ll work.”

Hawke looks down at Varric, “Oh no!  That is not happening.”

Hawke shrugs, “I was worth a shot.”

Divine Justinia floats over.  “Run!  That way.  If you don’t want to see, get as far away as you can!”

Hawke, Varric, and Shroud waste no time in running away.  Cullen hates to leave her, curled up on the ground, crying out in pain.  His mind has already slipped away from his happy thoughts, but he knows whatever is about to happen will leave him wide open.  Suddenly, Bull slings him over his shoulder and follows them.  Dorian right behind them.

She opens one eye.  She is alone.  “ _Good.”_ She stops fighting it and lets whatever memory The Nightmare is trying to force on her enter her mind.  White light fills her vision.

She sees herself in the Main Hall at her home in Ostwick.  Her hair is pulled back at the temples and flowing down her back.  She is wearing a flowing ornate dress.  She is standing next to her mother and an unknown man.  He is wearing a mask and some weird outfit, he’s obviously Orlesian.

“Mother.  Why must I be here?  Can’t Brandon learn to dance with someone else?  I have to meet uncle for training.”

Her mother looks down at her, she has an Orlesian accent, “Stand up straight, Shea.  Just because you plan to be a templar doesn’t mean you get to cast aside your duties as a Trevelyan.  This lesson is as much for you as it is for him.”

Shea remembers this day.  Why was the demon showing her this?  She was 14 and she spent the day learning to dance with her bother.  They were preparing for a party of some sort.  Probably his birthday.

Brandon enters the Main Hall.  “Sorry, I’m late mother.  My tutor was just showing me a few new techniques and we lost track of time.”  He has the same auburn hair as her and her mother.  He keeps it very short on the sides and lets the curls grow a little longer on the top.  He is tall and strapping.  Shea recalls that he was 18, or maybe about to turn 18, at the time.

The Orlesian man holds open his arms, “Ah, young Lord Trevelyan.  A pleasure to meet you at last.”  An elf scurries over to him and hands him a cane.  He taps it on the marble floor.  “Now.  This new dance is all the rage in the ballrooms of Halamshiral.  Approach the young lady, bow at the waist and offer her your hand.”  Brandon walks to Shea and does as he’s instructed.  “Now.  Miss Trevelyan.  Curtsy to him and take his hand.”  Shea rolls her eyes, but does as instructed.

“Parade her forward.  She is a jewel you must show to the court.  Of course, you’ll be dancing with someone else on the day, but this is just practice.”  He continues to talk them through the intricate dance.  He taps his cane against the floor to keep the rhythm.  “Excellent!  You are both naturals!  I would expect nothing less from a family as noble as yours.  Now again!”

They practice the dance over and over.  She is surprised at how graceful she is and is a little sad that she won’t get to show off her new skills.  The instructor applauds, “Fantastic!  Perfection!  Now at the end of the dance, Lord Trevelyan you will bow to the lady and she will curtsy.  You back away a few steps, before turning away.  If you wish to have another dance with her, instead of backing away, you offer your hand.  Try this!”  They do as instructed, trying first the offer of another dance then the back away.  “Excellent!”

The instructor doesn’t even acknowledge how well Shea did, all of his praise is directed to Brandon.  Her mother comes forward and looks down at Shea, “Run along now.  Your brother and I need to discuss his options for dance partner.”

She sighs, “Yes, mother.”

“And try not to ruin your dress with dirt.”

“Yes, mother.”

Shea leaves the main hall and goes to sit in the garden.  She sits by a small pond and watches the ducks dawdle around for a while.  After sometime, Brandon appears beside her.

Shea doesn’t recognize this part.  She remembers the ducks and then the rest of the day is boring and unremarkable.  She hears the faint sounds of demonic laughter.  Her blood chills.  _“What’s going to happen?  What have I forgotten?”_

Brandon sits down on the bench beside her.  “You are an excellent dance partner.”

“Uh huh.  An unimportant dance partner.”

“Hey.  If you weren’t around, I would have had to dance with Emeric and then where would I be?”

She laughs, “Oh that would have been funny!”

“So, I don’t know about you, but I’m super bored.  Want to go play Wicked Grace?”

“What’s Wicked Grace?”

“Oh it’s fun!  Mother would be furious if she knew I was teaching it to you.”

Shea jumps up off the bench.  “Let’s go then!”

She is willing the vision to end.  Her first memory of playing Wicked Grace is with Varric.  She didn’t know the rules when the dwarf taught her how to play.  Which means where ever this memory is headed, this is her first time playing it.  She knows how that game ends from time to time.  Her mind is racing.

Little Shea follows her brother up the stairs to his room.  It looks just the same as hers, only a little bigger.  He pulls the cards from a chest and sits them on the bed.  He turns to the door and locks it.  “Wouldn’t want mother to come barging in while we’re playing.”

She nods, “Right.  So, how do we start?”

He sits down on the bed and shuffles the cards.  She sits at the foot of the bed and watches him.  He talks her through the rules and they play a few practice rounds.  “Think you got it?”

“I think so.  Do we bet stuff?”

He rubs his chin, “Yeah.”  He looks around the room.  He gets up and digs through a chest.  “Well, normally we’d bet money, but I have something more fun.”  He holds up a clear bottle with pink liquid in it.  “I stole this from the study.  Don’t tell anyone.”

“What is it?”

“Strawberry wine.  Father brought it back from some trip he went on.  Look it hasn’t even been opened.”

“What’s it taste like?”

“I don’t know.  Strawberries?”  He pulls the cork out of the bottle and smells it.  “Smells like strawberries.”  He takes and swig.  “Tastes like sour strawberries, but it’s good.  Here.”  He holds out the bottle to her.  She takes it and takes a swig.  She coughs.  She licks her lips and drinks again.

“Not so bad the second time.”

“Great.  We’ll bet with this.  Loser has to drink some.”

“What happens if we run out?”

“Uh… I’ll think of something.”

They start playing and she is horrible at it.  She has a terrible poker face and the wine is making it hard for her to think.  Before she knows it, the bottle is gone.  She is very drunk and he’s a little drunk himself.  She drops the empty bottle on the floor.  “Now what?”

“Well, when they play in the tavern, they bet their clothes when they run out of money.  Maybe we could do that?  Unless you want to admit defeat?”

She sits up on her knees.  “Never!  Deal the cards!”

++++++++++

They play a few more hands.  He loses the first one.  “Shoes count as one.”  He takes them off and throws them on the floor.  They play again.  She loses and throws her shoes on the floor.  He loses the next two hands.  He loses his socks and his shirt.  She loses the next three hands.  She is down to her breast band and smallclothes.

“This isn’t really fair.  You have more clothes than me.”

“Fine.  I’ll let you count your socks as one each.”

He deals the cards again.

“I’m not sure I want to play more.”

“Aw come on.  You’re just getting good at this.”  He lets her win the next round and he takes off his pants.  “See.  Now we’re both in our smalls.”

“So if I win the next hand, does that mean I win the whole game?”

He nods.  “Sure does.”

“Ok.”

He deals the cards and she loses.  Her eyes go wide.  “I don’t think I should take anything else off.”

“Hey.  Rules are rules.  You’re the one who wanted to keep playing.”

Her cheeks redden.  “Well, ok. But you can’t tell _anyone_.”

He makes the cross his heart motion, “Promise.”

She removes her breast band and crosses her arms over her chest to cover herself.  She can’t bring herself to look at him.  She’s never been naked in front of anyone.

“Now how are we supposed to finish our game if you can’t use your hands?  It’s not like I haven’t seen boobs before.”

“You have?”

“Loads of times.”

“Where?”

“The tavern mostly.  You can do a lot of things if you have the coin.”

“Wait.  Does that mean you’ve…?”

“Like I said.  Loads of times.  This is the last hand.  Winner takes all.”

She sighs.  The alcohol is speaking for her now.  Normally she’d say no, get dressed and storm out.  Never speaking of this again.  But her competitive nature urges her to finish it.  “Fine.  One more hand.”

He deals the cards.  She gets a good hand.  She thinks she’s won.  Her beginner’s luck runs out though, he beats her.  She is shocked.  “How did you beat me?”  He explains how his cards are better than hers and she sighs.  “So, you won the game?”

He nods.  “Rules are rules.”

“No.  I don’t want to.”

“Shea you said you’d play by the rules.  You lost.  So…”

She covers her breasts and backs away from him.  “No.  I… this isn’t right.”  She turns her back to him and goes to get off the bed.  He grabs her arms and make her turn back to him.

“You’re a cheater.  And I’ll tell everyone you cheated if you don’t finish the game.”

“But… we’ll get in trouble.”

“If you finish the game, no one has to know.”

Her hands shake.  “Um… well, I… guess… if you promise not tell.”

“You have my word.”

She stands next to the bed.  Her hook her thumbs in the side of her smalls.  “I… can’t do it.”

He stands next to her.  “Fine.  Then I’ll do it.”  He knocks her hands away and pull her smalls down around her ankles.  He lifts one foot at time and fully removes them, tossing them to the other side of the room.  “There.  Game over.”  She backs into the wall and tries to cover herself.  She feels lightheaded.

“I think I should go back to my room.  I don’t feel so well.”

“What?  You’re just going to walk all the way there?  Naked?”

“No.  I…”

He shakes his head, “I won those clothes.  They are mine now.”

“But…”

“That’s what happens when you gamble.  To the winner go the spoils.”

She takes a few panicked breaths.  “But… what am I supposed to do?”

He walks towards her, “Earn them back?”

She shakes her head, “I’m not playing games anymore.  I just want to go to bed and forget this ever happened.”

“Who said anything about playing games?  There are… other ways to earn them back.”

The demon’s voice rings in her ears as the scene plays out.  “Poor naive, little girl.  Couldn’t see a trap if there was a sign pointing to it.”  Brandon pins her to the wall and kisses her neck.  She tries to push him off, but he is bigger and stronger than she is.

Young Shea and present Shea scream at the same time, “No!  Stop!”

The demon continues, “Your own family didn’t care about you.  You are a cast off.  Scraps to be used and thrown away.  Your parents put an illegitimate bastard ahead of you in the line.”  Brandon grabs her breasts and she cries out in pain.  “He then tried to kill you.  Your parents disowned you.”  He picks her up and throws her on the bed.  She tries to scramble away, but he pins her down.  “They wanted you be a cloistered sister, and even in that you failed them.”  Brandon whips out his dick and forces her legs apart.  She screams for help, but no one comes.  “You are spoiled goods.  No one will truly love you.  You are but an instrument to achieve the goals of others.  Even now, your friends have abandoned you.”  Shea watches as he brother forces himself upon her.  Blood staining his blanket, Wicked Grace cards sticking to her back.  “You are alone.  You will always be alone.  You will lose your Commander when his mind snaps.  And it will snap.  Soon.”  He finishes inside her.

Once he is done with her, he tosses her clothes at her.  “There.  You can have those back now.”  She can’t move.  She just lays on his bed staring at the ceiling.  She’s in pain and feels broken.  “I thought you wanted to go to bed.” 

She forces herself to stand, shaking as she pulls her dress over her head.  She doesn’t bother with the rest of her clothes.  She scoops them up and limps down the empty corridors to her room.  Cum and blood dripping between her legs.  She bolts the door closed and sinks to the floor.  She clutches her knees to her chest and sobs.  “It didn’t happen.  It couldn’t have happen.  Forget.  Just forget.”  The vision fades and the white light returns.

++++++++++

Shea is back in the Fade.  Her head is throbbing and tears are steaming from her eyes.  She curls up into a ball on her spot on the ground.  The voice echoes through the Fade.  It’s the first sound other than her desperate screams since they ran away.  Cullen has to be restrained by both Hawke and Bull to keep him in place.  He feels Hawke’s hands drop as the voice rings out.  “Look at you now.  So weak.  So helpless.” Cullen rears back and punches Bull square in the jaw with all his might.  Bull crumples to the ground.  Now free, he bolts towards her.  “You can’t help yourself.  You can’t help anyone.  The world will burn, because of you.”

He slides on his knees.  “Shea!  I’m here!”  Her screams are calm but she shakes on the ground griping the sides of her head.  He places a hand on her side, she jerks and scrambles away from him.  She presses herself against a rock and hugs her knees.  She rocks back and forth, her eyes still squeezed closed.  She looks like a wounded animal.  He doesn’t move.  “Shea?  Love?  It’s Cullen.  I’m here.  It’s over.”  One thing The Nightmare shouldn’t have done was hurt her.  His care and his rage have buried any and all fear he has.  There is nothing for him to dig up and use against him.  Making his fear of seeing her hurt a reality had the opposite reaction of making him a sniveling mess on the ground.  When it comes to fight or flight, Cullen has never been known to flee.

He inches towards her.  “Shea.”  She twitches at her name.  “Inquisitor.  Do you know where you are?”  She doesn’t respond.

Dorian touches his shoulder, “Help her remember you.  Bright happy thoughts.”  He nods and Dorian backs away.

He inches closer.  “Inquisitor?”  He tries to think of something that would make her happy.  He smirks and blushes.  “Do you remember when you came to my office before leaving to meet up with Hawke?   You asked me to take a walk with you.  I told you it was a nice day for travel.  You wanted to talk about us.  I had that elven phrase you said to me translated by Solas.  And I had a reply.  Well, I still remember it.  And I’d like to amend it slightly now.  Ar lath, ma vhenan.”  She calms slightly and he gets a little closer.  He’s close enough now to touch her but he doesn’t.  “And then just when you were about to kiss, that asshole Jim comes barging in.  As usual.”  He sees the corner of her mouth twitch upward.  “And I yelled at him.  Gave him a death stare and he fled.  And then I kissed you.  Surprised you.  We were surrounded by patrols and I’m sure Jim was watching.  But I didn’t care.  I had wanted to do that, for so long.  To be open and honest about what we have.”  He brushes the back of her hand, testing the waters.  She twitches but doesn’t pull away.

“Then you told me that I said ‘I love you’ in elven.  That’s not how I wanted to say it, though it was and is true.  I said I did.  And so did you.  And I still do.  I always will.  No demon, or ancient darkspawn, or anything will take that away from you.  I will always be here.  You are everything to me.”

Her arms fly around his neck and she trembles against him.  He holds her and rubs her back.  She slowly calms down and sits back on her knees.  He wipes the tears from her face.  “Are you…”

“I’m… not fine, but functional.”  She sniffles.  “Can we kill this ass hat now?”

He chuckles, “With pleasure.”  He helps her stand as the others join them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you know, this will be brought up in future chapters. I hope that doesn't scare anyone off, but yeah... Thanks for reading!
> 
> UPDATED July 22, 2018


	39. Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift

“Sorry for punching you.”

“I’m not mad.  More impressed than anything.  You knocked me out, with your off hand, and didn’t even break anything.”

They are jogging behind Shea.  She hasn’t said much since becoming vertical, but she’s following the Spirit of Justinia.  The demon and their exit await.  They stop at the top of some stairs that lead down to where the demon waits.  He is massive.  His minions are all around, including a large creature with tentacles on his face.  There is no way there are beating this thing.  He is so big they can’t even see all of it.  Justina floats toward it, “Tell Leliana, ‘I’m sorry.  I failed her, too’.”  She glows bright green and explodes into the monster’s face.  It disappears.  They aren’t sure if it’s dead or if it just retreated.

They all spring into action.  It’s a hard and long battle, but eventually they kill every demon they see.  Shea motions for them to run.  Varric, Dorian, Bull, and Cullen all rush towards the rift.  Shea is right behind them, but she looks back as the big one starts to separate her from Hawke and Shroud.  She ducks underneath it and stands beside them.  It blocks their escape.  Hawke turns to them, “Go ahead.  I’ll cover you.”

She shakes her head.  Shroud chimes in, “No.  It should be me.  This is the Grey Wardens’ doing and a Grey Warden must fix it.”

Hawke shakes his head, “No.  They need you to rebuild.  It’s you job.  Corypheus is mine.”

She looks between the two men.  First Shroud, then Hawke.  Her eyes meet his and she can’t bring herself to sacrifice him.  The Grey Wardens might need Shroud, but she and Varric need Hawke.  It is a purely selfish decision, one that will likely haunt her.  She looks back to Shroud, “I…”

“It’s been an honor, Inquisitor.”  He raises his sword, “For the Wardens!”  He charges forward, striking blow after blow to the massive creature.  Hawke shoves her forward and they run to the rift.  He jumps through and she turns back to look of Shroud.  She can’t see him and the creature is headed her way.  She jumps through.

Once on the other side, she’s sees more demons and fighting.  She sneers.  She is tired and wants to go home.  She holds up her marked hand and squeezes it into a fist.  The rift slams closed and the demons melt into the ground.  Questions are asked and answered.  Her voice sounds distant and foreign.  Her mind is not invested on the Wardens and their almost self-inflicted problems.  She barely hears herself offing them a place in the Inquisition and that they should avoid Venatori.  She tells them Shroud died a hero, but she didn’t know that for sure.  She feels like she sacrificed him to save a friend.

She finishes whatever inspirational speech that falls out of her mouth and heads for the exit.  Cullen is right beside her.  She welcomes his presence and she appreciates that he doesn’t say anything.  He just walks beside her.  She hears him issue orders to his men as they walk back through the fortress.  She vaguely hears they won’t be leaving till dawn.  _“Nope.  I’m leaving right now.  I need to distance myself from all this shit.”_   She doesn’t slow as she mounts her horse.  Cullen has to grab the reigns to stop her from riding off.

“I know you don’t want to talk.  I get it.  But could you at least tell me where you are going?”

She looks down at him.  “You aren’t making me stay?”

“You need distance.  I’ve seen the look you have on your face in the mirror.  I have no intention of stopping you or even allowing anyone to follow.  But for my own piece of mind, I need to know where you plan to go.”

She sighs, “I hadn’t gotten that far.  Somewhere the veil is thick and rift free.  I might not stop anywhere.  I don’t know.  I won’t be able to sleep.  So…”

“Could I make a suggestion?”  She nods.  “I believe you’ve mentioned that the sea air…”

She shakes her head violently.  “Bad idea.”

“Ok.  Uh...”  He scratches his head.  “This might be a really bad idea, but I hear there are no rifts in Val Royeaux.  It’ll take you a few days ride, but you know the way.  You can send me word when you arrive.  Again for my own peace of mind.  Then you’re in a good spot to head back to Skyhold, whenever you’re ready.”

She nods.  “That’ll do.”

“Sh… it’s ok to say your name now?”  She nods, “Shea, if you need to me come with you, I can put someone in charge of getting everyone back.”

“Thank you, but no.  I have… somethings to sort out.”

“Alright.  Don’t forget to let me know when you arrive.”

“I’ll let you know.  I promise.”

He reaches up to her.  She stiffly leans down so he can touch her face.  He can see the pain in her eyes.  The mental torment reads loud and clear.  “Be safe.”

The tiniest smile pulls at her lips, “Always.”  He releases the reigns and she spurs her horse into a full gallop.  He watches her shadow disappear into the horizon.  Dorian runs up beside him.

“You let her leave?”

“She needs to be alone.”

“Should we…?”

“No.  She’ll be fine.”

“Cullen, I really don’t think…”

“I appreciate your concern, but the Inquisitor has issued an order that no one follows her.  She’ll meet us back at Skyhold.”

“Whatever that demon did really fucked her up.”

Cullen mutters under his breath, “I know the feeling.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.  You and Bull should get to a healer.  Your wound is starting to bleed again.”

“Good point.  But why does Bull need to go?”

Cullen smirks, “Something cracked when I punched him and it wasn’t my hand.”

“Oh, this should be fun.  He might whine and cause a scene.”  Dorian pats Cullen on the shoulder and goes to find Bull.  Cullen stands in the same spot for an hour.  When asked, he says he’s keeping watch, which is half true.  But he’s not watching for enemies.  He’s watching for her.  Hoping she’ll change her mind, but knowing she won’t.  Someone comes to take his place and he turns in for the night.  He won’t be able to sleep, but he can at least pretend.

***

She doesn’t go to Val Royeaux.  She keeps track of the days it would take her to get there and finds someone in a small village to send a raven telling him she arrived, but she arrived at night and no one saw her.  Instead she heads south, through the Dales and into the Frostbacks.  She isn’t really paying attention to where she is until she sees shattered wood sticking out of the ground.  She slows her horse and looks up.  Based on how the sky looks and the surrounding mountains, she knows where she has ended up.  Haven.  Somewhere deep beneath her is the village she almost died in, multiple times.  Looking around the transformed landscape, she assumed the wood sticking out of the ground is part of the Chantry.

She has ridden for days.  She and her horse are exhausted.  She gets off her horse and pulls its reigns forward so she could lead it.  First order of business is finding water, then a safe place to camp.  Her feet do the thinking.  After walking a few more miles, she finds a spring.  If she were to trace it back, she imagined it would lead to the frozen river outside Haven.

She decides this is a good enough place to camp.  She ties her horse to a tree near the water and walks around gathering wood.  She doesn’t have much with her, no tent, no warm clothes.  Just a bedroll.  It will have to do.  She lights her campfire and rolls out her bedroll next to it.  She sits down and pulls her knees to her chest.

“ _What am I doing?  I should be in Skyhold.  Celebrating a successful campaign.  I shouldn’t let this beat me.  But it changes… everything.”_   She rests her forehead on her knees and lets her sobs over take her.  Something died in her when that memory was restored to her.  The last remaining family member who supported her and loved her had done something to her that has ruined her.  She can only imagine what her life would be like had The Nightmare not taken that memory from her.  She pushes the thought from her head, dealing in what-ifs never helped anyone.

She feels guilty and selfish.  Still she cries.  She hates him, she hates herself, and she hates her name.  She tries to nail down exactly what this changed about her.  She is the same person as far as she can tell.  Something unimaginable happened to her, but her whole life since the conclave has been like that.  In comparison, the conclave is ultimately the more serious event of the two.  But that had happened to everyone, but this is just her.  She never told anyone about it because she didn’t remember.

Did he remember?  Did anyone else know it happened?  And if they did, what would they have done about it?  He is the first born, the future ruler.  Their parents worshipped and cherished him.  They took pride in the man he was becoming.  If they knew, she can think of no indication of it.  If he remembers, she can think of no sign of it.  If he did, did he feel guilty about?  Did he regret it?  Worse yet, what if he did remember and just assumes her unaltered sisterly love for him is an acceptance?  That she is ok with what he did?

New emotions surface.  Rage and anger join the party.  She seethes, her hatred for her entire family burns in her heart.  Brandon, Emeric, her mother and father, and even her uncle.  She wants to know every single person who knew and did nothing.  She wants to kill Brandon as she had Emeric.  It occurs to her this is why she didn’t want to board a ship when Cullen suggested it.  She knows now she would have sailed right to Ostwick, stormed into the main hall, and slaughtered him on his stupid throne.

She wants to drown her sorrows with alcohol, but the thought sends chills through her body.  She wonders if she’ll ever be able to drink again or if it will trigger the trauma.  Much like Cullen’s mind reeled from even thinking of anything remotely close to whatever he suffered.  She wonders if the same effect would happen when she tries to play Wicked Grace.  The chill that passes through her tells her yes.  Her heart sinks.  Would she have the same reaction when Cullen touches her?  She loves him, even lusts after him.  He is not her brother and would never force her to do anything she didn’t want to, but mental and emotional scars have that effect on people.

Her chest heaves as a new wave of sobs break out of her.  She needs to get past this.  She isn’t going to let Corypheus win and sitting in the middle of the wilderness blubbering isn’t going to defeat him.  She forces herself to stand.  She picks up her axe.  She rushes towards a nearby tree and starts hacking it down.  She screams with each swing.  She keeps swinging until finally the tree falls.  Still not content, she hacks at the fallen tree.  Her arms ache and protest each swing.  She drops her axe in the snow and looks down at the mangled tree.

Somehow, destroying the tree has helped calm her.  The tears have stopped.  She doesn’t feel the sobs returning.  In fact, she feels a little empty.  She looks up at her horse.   It isn’t even bothered by her outbursts.  She leaves her axe where she dropped it and sits back on her bedroll.  She feels weak.  She hasn’t eaten in days, barely drank any of the water in her waterskin.  She flops on her back and looks up at the bright blue sky. 

What did this change?  What did it _really_ change?  She hasn’t really been changed physically, just her perception of her body.  Just because she didn’t remember it happening before, didn’t mean it didn’t happen.  If she can bring herself to have sex, she knows it wouldn’t hurt.  She isn’t grateful for that, she feels robbed in a way.  Though she doesn’t know how soon it will be until she’d allow him to touch her again, she wants to replace this experience with something better.  The memory will always be there, but her body will forget and the feeling replaced with a pleasurable one.  At least, that is her hope.

She is still the same girl she was before having the memory restored.  Even as she analyzes herself, she feels the memory become distant.  Still present, but just another horrible event in her life to add to the rest.  She shakes her head.  If she had never been at the conclave, if all the crazy things she experienced had never been experienced, then she is certain that this memory would have utterly broken her.  She’d be a husk.  If she had remembered back then, she would have changed her mind, for sure.  She wouldn’t have been a templar, she’d be too shattered to be of any use.  In fact, she might even have been a chanter, just repeating the chant of light over and over the rest of her life.

She finds herself glad the memory had been taken right after it happened.  Upon further reflection, she doesn’t even recall being in pain the next day.  Granted a lot of her life as a noble just sort blended together.  Same things day in and day out.  Maybe the alcohol made her blackout, maybe those memories existed too, but they were taken as well. 

It doesn’t matter.  Though she has a new mental scar, she feels that she can live through it.  She might have triggers, like Cullen, but she thinks she can function.  Go back to her life.  Go back to him.  And that’s exactly what she is going to do.  But not just yet.  She and her horse need to rest.  She’ll head back to Skyhold in the morning.

***

“Commander, where did she go?  We can’t just continue without her.”

Cullen pinches the bridge of his nose.  It’s been like this since the moment he return from Adamant without her.  “For the millionth time, I don’t know.”

“You’re telling me that you spend every free moment together and were seen talking to her before letting her leave, and you don’t know.”

“Yes, Cassandra.  That is what I’m telling you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Leliana clears her throat, “You mentioned she sent word from Val Royeaux.”

“Yes.  That is where she said she was going.”

“My scouts in the area report that no one has seen her there.  A few of them even said they saw her travelling through the Dales.”

He slams his fist into the war table.  “Stop!  She needs time.  None of you were there, none of you saw what we did, and none of you know what she, more than the rest of us, had to endure for our sakes.  Shroud is dead because she chose to save Hawke.  I don’t know what that demon did to her… Let it go.  We can manage without her.”

“Yes, but she’s the Inquisitor.”

“I don’t give a nug’s ass if she’s fucking Andraste made flesh!  She needs time to recover without everyone pestering her.  No one will find her, if she doesn’t want to be found.”

Cassandra sighs, “What if she doesn’t…”

He growls.  “I’ve had enough of this!  She will come back.  I’m not blind!  But I know her.  She won’t just let the world burn because of some bad memory.”

Leliana holds up a report.  “Do we know what she remembered?  The reports say…”

“Fuck the reports!”

Josephine is softer than the rest, but she’s still prying.  “Commander, if we knew what happened maybe…” 

“Even if we knew, I would burn all traces of it.  She suffered her own personal hell and none of us wanted to witness it.  She suffered alone.  She continues to suffer alone.  That is no one’s business but her own.  Now, drop it!”

Cassandra sneers at him, “How are we supposed to run the Inquisition without her?”

“Oh, I don’t know.   Do your fucking jobs!  There is a system in place for when she travels.  Do that!  Now, if you don’t mind, I have things to do.”  He storms out of the war room with such a force that the doors shake on their hinges.  He leaves the door standing wide open.  They’ve never seen him like that.  Cassandra is worried this might be a sign of his lyrium withdrawal coming to bite him.  When she tries to read that in him, she can’t decide if that is the case.  They all exchange looks before returning to the reports in front of them.

He stops between the doors leading from Josephine’s office and the throne room.  He leans against the wall and takes a few deep breaths.  Scaring the nobles isn’t wise, thought it might be fun.  He decides he can’t calm himself enough go that way, so he goes down the stairs that are there.  He needs to be close to something that’s hers.  He finds the secret door to her quarters and runs up the stairs to her room.  He locks the door and disconnects the bell.  He sits on the end of her bed and runs his fingers through his hair.

Of course, he is worried about her.  After seeing her in the Fade and the look on her face afterwards, how can he not be?  But she is a capable woman.  He doesn’t fear that someone will kill her or that she’ll be hurt out there on her own.  He fears that she might get lost in the memories.  He has to fight for control of his own mind almost every morning and those are memories he’ll never forgot.  He doesn’t want to.  As Varric had said in the Fade, “Memories make us who we are.  They shape us into the people we are.”

He can only imagine what he would have done if all those bad memories had been forced upon his mind after forgetting they ever existed.  He doesn’t even want to think about it.  His life would be vastly different than it is now, and he wanted to no part of it.  He likes his life now.

He misses her and wishes he could help her, but he completely understands her need for distance and solitude.  That’s how he felt after she left and even now.  Trying to calm himself before he blows up at anyone else asking where she is, he takes a few deep breaths and then stands.  He isn’t completely calm.  He doesn’t think he’ll be able to relax until she comes back.  He leaves her room and returns to his office to let work distract him.

***

As she rides into Skyhold, she can feel the eyes watching her.  She doesn’t even know how long she has been gone, time has slipped away.  She takes her horse to the stables and vaguely hears Dennett complain about the poor condition it is in.  She brushes past people who want her attention.  She needs a bath and to sleep in a bed.  She needs to see if King Alistair has written her back.  She needs to see Cullen.  She makes a quick priority list.  Bath, bed, Cullen, then letter.  She feels a tiny pull at her heart when she lists him third, but she needs real sleep.  Even if that sleep is full of nightmares, it will be better than a bedroll in the snow.

It is harder to push past people in the throne room.  Word has spread of her return while she was returning her horse.  She never speaks and she barely stops.  Just to pause long enough to step around someone.  The only one she sees that she even wants to deal with is Solas.  He knows more about the Fade than anyone.  If someone can give her a dreamless sleep, it is him.  She makes eye contact as she passes him and he soundlessly follows behind her.  She opens her door lets him enter.  She locks it behind her and heads up the stairs.

Before he can ask she says, “No, I’m not fine.  No, I don’t want to talk about it.  I’m not telling you where I went.  Does that about cover it?”

He nods, “What do you need from me?”

“One: I want to sleep from now until the morning.  Without dreaming.  I’ve been tortured by the Fade enough for a while.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“Two: The mages they send up here to fill my bath don’t make it hot enough for the type of bath I’m thinking about right now.  I have some injuries too.”

“That’s easy.  I’ll have to run downstairs to gather some things, but it won’t take long.”

“Is there a way to seal this room?  Meaning no sounds get in, such as knocking, and no one can open that door, even with a key?”

“Again.  Easy.  I’ll just have to dispel it if you ever want to leave.”

“Thank you.”  He starts to leave.  “Wait.”

“Yes?”

“Can you set aside some time for me tomorrow?  I… uh… I have some questions that I think only you can answer.”

“I take it this conversation should happen in the waking world?”  She nods.  “Then my time is yours.” He leaves her room and she hears a buzzing sound coming from the door instead of the bolt.  He must have already sealed it.  She quickly changes out of her armor and wraps herself in a robe.  She sits at her desk and absent mindedly pushes the papers around.  At the bottom of the pile, she sees a letter with the royal seal of Ferelden on it.  She picks it up.  It hasn’t even been opened.  She assumes Sky has returned herself to her cage after dropping it off.  She remembers her list.  “Bath, bed, Cullen, letter.”  She opens a desk drawer and drops it in.  Out of sight, out of mind.

Solas comes back in.  “Where’s the bath?”  She points to the door and he goes in.  “How hot do you want it?”

“Not hot enough to hurt me, but really hot.”

She appreciates the he doesn’t ask questions.  No explanation required.  It’s just another reason why she picked him and not Dorian.  He comes out and approaches her.  “Since you won’t be going to sleep right away.  I took the liberty of making you a potion.”  He holds it out to her.  The thick yellow and purple liquid looks toxic.  “It’s perfectly safe.  It will do exactly what you asked for.  The effect is immediate.”  She takes the bottle and sets it on her desk.  “I’ll come back in the morning to unseal the door and wake you.  The magic in that bottle has to be cancelled.”

She nods, “Thank you, Solas.”

He nods.  “I’ll let everyone know not to disturb you.  Not that they would succeed even I they tried.”  He bows slightly and leaves.

She stands and throws her robe on the bed.  The bath is steaming.  She doesn’t even test the waters and lowers herself into the near scolding water.  She furiously scrubs each inch of herself.  Her skin is raw and red when she finishes.  Whatever he put in the water heals all her scrapes and bruises from the battle.  She leans against the tub wall and sighs.  She feels more like herself.  She stays in the bath until her muscles relax.  She finally gets out and dries herself.  Knowing that he’ll be back she opts to wear something that covers her more than her usual nightdress.  She sees the clothes that she set in her wardrobe for Cullen.  They’ll be big, but comfortable.  She puts on the black pants and the cream colored shirt.  She laces it up completely.  She hangs her robe and grabs the potion off the desk.  She settles into her bed.  She pulls the cork out of the bottle and quickly drinks it.  The bottle clatters to the floor.  She falls back on her pillow.  Her eyes closes and a warm darkness seems to surround her.  She welcomes this void and embraces the deep sleep she falls into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! Comforting fluff on the way!
> 
> UPDATED July 23, 2018


	40. Rehab

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** pov/time shift

Her eye lids feel heavy as the darkness slowly recedes from her.  Her skin feels cool and she feels warm fingers against her neck.  She slowly opens her eyes and blinks into the blinding sunlight.

“Ah.  Good.  You’re finally coming out if.  I was beginning to worry.”

Her voice cracks as she speaks, “What do you mean finally?”

“I was worried your mind was trying to cling to the sleep.  You’ve been through a lot.  The spirits clamored all night to know if you were ok.”

“Spirits were worried about me?”

“Does this surprise you?”

“Shouldn’t it?”

He chuckles, “I suppose not.  You can’t begin to understand your impact on the Fade.  Especially after Adamant.  If they could have come to your aid then, they would have.  The Nightmare was just too powerful for them.  I dare say if you were a mage, you’d have so much power behind your magic you would have no equal if you allowed them all to assist you.”

“That’s actually kind of scary.  No one should have that kind of power.”

“Especially if that someone had an ounce of ambition.”  She slowly sits up.  She feels a little stiff from sleeping so long, but she feels the most rested she’s ever felt.  “I’ll leave you to get ready for the day.  I’m sure you have a lot of work to do.”

“I bet you’re right.  Thanks again, Solas.”

“I’m glad to be of assistance.”  He leaves.  She rubs her eyes and stretches.  She head is finally clear of the thoughts that have plagued her for days.  She hopes it holds out.  She refuses to let her past affect her any more than it already has.  She dresses in her uniform and pulls her hair back in a ponytail. Her first order of business is to go see Cullen.

***

Cullen paces his office.  After hearing that she had returned, his worry fell away, opening him up for his own pain after his experiences at Adamant.  He keeps trying to work.  He’s read the same report five times.  He sets the paper on the desk and rubs his temples. The headaches are worse than ever.  He can’t think, can’t focus.  He leans forward with his palms on the desk.

His thoughts are like an avalanche, slow at first and slowly building into a massive wave of destruction.  It starts as a small headache.  The nightmares are back.  They have gotten worse.  New ones plague him.  He can’t sleep, he can’t eat.  He woke with a nosebleed and had a second one after breakfast.  He can’t bring himself to leave his tower.  So he stays in his office because the sun blinds him.

He pushes back from the desk and braces himself as he stands.  It’s time.  This is it.  He needs to step down.  He can’t function like this.

“Jim.  I’m going to see the Seneschal.”

“Yes, ser.”

Cullen shades his eyes as he opens the door.  He surges forward.  She’s hitting a training dummy in the courtyard below the battlements, so he doesn’t have too far to go.

“We need to talk.”

She motions for him to enter the blacksmith.  “Clear the room.”  The smiths set their work aside and do as they are instructed.  She leans against a table and crosses her arms.  “What is it?”

“It’s time.  I can’t handle this anymore.  I can help you find a replacement if you need me to.”

This takes her off guard.  It isn’t what she is expecting him to say.  “No.  That’s not necessary.”

“How can this not be necessary?  You saw me yesterday.  This is pointless.  I’m stepping down.”

“No.  You are not.”

“You said you would monitor me and if I became incapable of leading, you’d…”

“I did.  But I think you can do this.  I’m not letting you throw it all away.”

“How can you even say that?”

“Nothing you can say will change my mind.”

“I expected you to keep your word.  This is… relentless.  I can’t function like this much less lead an army.”

“You give yourself too little credit.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose.  “If I am unable to do my duty, then what was the point of all this?  Would you rather let the Inquisition suffer because…”

The door opens and Shea enters.  They both look over to her as she approaches.  Cullen looks at the floor and shakes his head.  He goes to leave, pausing next to her he whispers, “Forgive me.”

Shea watches him leave.  She’s missed something.  What is she meant to forgive him for?  She faces Cassandra, “What was that about?”

“How are you…?”

“Better.  What was that about?”

“He told you that he is no longer taking lyrium?”  Shea nods, “He has asked me to let him step down and find a replacement for him.”

“What?!  Why the hell would he do that?”

“He thinks it’s necessary.  It isn’t.  We can get past whatever is bothering him.  He just needs time.”

Shea sighs, “As if I didn’t feel selfish enough.  The Fade really messed with him.  I’m sure that’s what this is all about.”

“Probably.  That and his withdrawals.  If you speak with him, maybe you can change his mind.  If not, he will leave.  Mages have always been vocal about their suffering, but templars never have.  The Order has them bound, mind and soul, whomever holds their lyrium leash has control over them.  I think this is why Corypheus was able to take control of them so easily.  In any case, this has always been his chance to break free of that leash and prove to others that it is possible.  I knew that when we met in Kirkwall.  Go to him.  See if you can help him.”

“I will.  Thank you.”

“Just a warning.  His anger has been a bit unpredictable lately.  Be wary.”

Shea shakes her head, “He would never hurt me.”

“Even still, be careful.”

Shea turns and leaves.  She bounds up the stairs towards his office.  She opens the door and stops just short of being hit by a wooden box.  His loud growl is the only thing that warned her in time to avoid being hit.  Wood and glass shatter against it.

“Maker’s breath!  I didn’t see you enter. I…  Forgive me.”  He turns away from her and looks at the ground.

“Forgive you for what?  Nearly hitting me with a box or something else?”  He doesn’t answer. “Cullen talk to me.”

He moves towards her, “You have your own…”  He grunts and braces himself on the desk.  She rushes towards him. He waves her off and she stops.  “I never meant for this to get out of control.  But ignoring it for so long…”

“I… You know, what I’m not going to ask if you’re alright.  I know the answer.  Please just talk to me.”

He sighs.  “You asked me what happened to Ferelden’s Circle.  It was over run… by abominations.  The templars…. _my friends_ … were slaughtered.”  He turns his back on her.  She can’t say anything.  She doesn’t know what she should say.  She can feel more coming.  He leans against the wall. Looking out his thin window.  He pinches his nose, “I was… tortured.  They tried to break my mind and… How can you be the same person after experiencing something like that?”  He scoffs, “Yet still I wanted to serve.  They sent me to _Kirkwall_.  I trusted Meredith.  Her fear of mages lead her into madness.  The circle fell.  Innocents died in the streets.”  He turns to face her, “I want nothing to do with any of that.  Can’t you see that?”

She takes a few steps towards him.  “Cullen… I understand…”

“Stop.  You should be questioning what I’ve done.  I put this all at risk for just the chance to start over.  But these thoughts, these visions, this pain.  It just won’t leave me.”  He paces in front of her.  It hurts to watch him suffer.  Now more than ever she feels his pain.  Yet his is worse because it isn’t just memories that haunt him, but the lack of lyrium too.  What else could be escalating his descent?  “How many more innocents will die if we fail?  I swore myself wholly to the Inquisition, to protecting innocent lives.  I will not give less to the Inquisition than I did to the Order.”  He pauses and mutters, “I should be taking it.”  He growls and punches his bookcase, “I should be taking it!”

She grabs his fist.  “Cullen.  Look at me.”  He turns to face her.  She puts her hand on under his chin and forces him to meet her eyes.  “Forget the Inquisition.  It doesn’t own you.  This is your life.  You are your own man and you can make your own choices.  Do you want to take lyrium or do you want to break your leash?  Be whomever you want to be?”

He sighs and lets his face rest against her hand.  His skin is hot.  “I… no.  I don’t want to.  But these memories… I fear that they are getting worse.  If I cannot endure…”

“Shh.  You can.  _We_ can.  Our pasts do not define us.  Giving in to them, letting ourselves be pulled down by the… horrors we’ve experienced, only give them more power over us.  Yes, they happened.  Yes, they’ve broken us.  But we can survive.  You can survive.  You are strong.  I have faith in you.”

He sighs.  “There’s more.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve never told anyone this.  It’s not just lyrium or memories I’m fighting.  There’s a… demon.  In the Fade.  She was attracted to my suffering in the tower and torments me in my sleep.  I fear one day she’ll…”

“Not if I have anything to say about.  If she was… taken care of… do you think you could better recover?”

He pulls her hand away and walks back to the window.  “I don’t see how.”

“If this demon is hurting you, she has me to answer to.”

He shakes his head, “You aren’t a mage.  How would you even begin to…?”

“You leave that to me.”  She walks up behind him.  “Look at me.”  He turns and she grabs his face.  “I will not lose you to some bitch in the Fade.  You are mine.  And this demon is going to have to pry you out of my cold dead hands.”

He closes his eyes.  “How are you so… after whatever the monster did to you I the Fade?”

“Honestly.  I don’t know.  I’m still angry, heartbroken.  I don’t even have words to describe how I’m feeling.  But having a purpose that helps.  Right now all I want is to help you.  You are my purpose.”

He leans into her and she tenses.  “What is it?”

Her hands tremble against his face.  “I’m… I’m sorry.  I just…”

“I’m here if you want to...”

“I’m not ready.  Like you, putting it into words makes it real.  Let’s take care of you first and then maybe... You’ve suffered with this long enough.”

He sighs.  “I really want to kiss you right now.”

She releases his face and takes his hands.  He can feel her trembling.  He wants so desperately to know why.  What did the demon make her remember that makes her shy away from his touch?  She closes her eyes.  She places his hands on her waist.  She rests her head on his chest.  He’s afraid to move.  She struggling. 

“Shea.  It’s killing me not to ask.”

“I know.  Just… hug me.”

He slowly envelops her in his arms.  She presses the side of her face into his armor.  He feels her arms slowly snake around him.  When she squeezes him tightly, he squeezes back.  She wants to run.  Not away from him, but with him.  This shouldn’t be so hard for her.  She loves him.  She feels whole around him.  She presses herself harder against him and his back hits the wall.  Her mind flashes the matching moment with her brother and she instantly jerks away from him.  She rubs her temples and feels his hands on her shoulders.  Maybe she shouldn’t wait.

“Maybe I’m not ready to get back to work.”

“What do you need me to do?  Name it.”  She covers her face.  She’s embarrassed by her reaction.  He peels one of them away and laces his fingers with hers.  “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“I think more recovery is required.  For both of us.  My mind will only let me focus on two things.  My past and you.”

“I’m ashamed to admit I’ve been feeling rather selfish lately, but in this, I feel the same.”

He smiles, “Good.  Now I know we can’t leave, because of course we can’t.  But we can at least hide for a while.”

“Where could we possibly hide?  Someone is bound to see wherever we go.”

“I have an idea.”

“Alright.”

He leads her to the courtyard, past the sables, through the kitchen, and down a set of stairs.  She has never seen those stairs before.  At the bottom of the stairs is a heavy open door.  They walk through it and she gasps.  The walls glow with a soft light, making it easy to see. There are rows and rows of small houses.  An entire city underground.  The villagers are milling around, going about their day to day.  No one notices them.

“I… I’ve never been down here.”

“This is just the upper most level.  The level below is where the craftsmen are.  They wanted a separate place to live and work.  Josephine made contact with Orzammar, as you suggested, and they sent some surfacers over who had experience with dwarven construction.  It’s still a work in progress.  They want to eventually replace the wooden homes with stone.  The highlights of the completed work are the lights and the ventilation to let smoke out.  It’s routed through the blacksmith and undercroft to disguise it.”

“It’s incredible.”

He pulls her along an alley way.  The villagers still haven’t spotted them as he sneaks them between the houses.  He pushes open the side door of a house and they step in.  It looks fairly bare.  It has four furnished rooms, but no personal touches.  A sitting room with empty bookshelves, a dining room and kitchen, a bedroom, and a small room bathroom.  It is a little dusty as if no one has living here for some time.

“This was Rylen’s house.  When I assigned him to the Western Approach, he moved out of here.  We haven’t had anyone new come to Skyhold since, so his old home sits vacant.”

She walks around the house.  It is clearly made for a single person.  “Are all the homes this nice?”

“Some are nicer.  Like the ones for families.  More rooms and they’ve added personal things.  Some are even more basic than this.  This area is where my officers live.  The ones without family anyway.”

“Where do your men sleep?”

“One level down.  They’re a large force and I thought they’d make the villagers uneasy if they were all on the same level.  The barracks are with the craftsmen.”

“How did I not know about this?”

He chuckles, “You never asked.  And we were hoping to have more finished before you came down here.  But because we came through the entrance we did, no one will be able to find us.”

She looks over at him.  “Really?”

“Sure, people may have seen us go through the kitchen, but once you pass through, we can get to literally anywhere in Skyhold, none of the villagers down here saw us, and as far as anyone knows this house is empty.”  She sits on the couch, takes off her boots, and pulls the ponytail from her hair.  She shakes her head and runs her fingers through her hair.  She lays down to the couch and kicks her feet over the arm rest.  “Wasting no time huh?”

“Hey.  Leliana is fantastic spymaster.  She’ll find us eventually.  Might was well take advantage of the solitude while we can.”

He removes his mantle and sets it on the back of the couch.  He turns to remove his boots, all his metal armor pieces, and the thick padded shirt.  He has taken to wearing a sleeveless undershirt under his armor, because he never knows when moments like this will arise.  When he turns back, she has commandeered his cloak.  She has it wrapped around her and is laying in top of it.  He smirks, “Comfy?”

“Yes.”

He lifts her feet and sits on the couch.  “So…”

“So?”

“Who’s going first?”

“First?”

He looks over at her.  Half of her face is covered with the fur of his cloak.  He can’t help but laugh.  “Beautiful _and_ adorable.”  She gently kicks him.  “I’m beginning to learn you enjoy being alone.”

She recoils slightly at the word.  “Don’t say that.”

“Say what?”

“That I’m alone.  The demon said that to me.  You’ve learned I enjoy peace and quiet, or solitude, or private time, or something.  But not alone.”

“Alright.”

She sits up on the couch and shoves her toes underneath him.  “If… we talk about this… I’m going to be a wreck.  And you have to promise not to fly off the handle or do anything rash.”

“I’ll try.”

“Because I know you and you can get angry, especially when you’ve been feeling like you do today.  This is… still very raw and fresh for me.  So, I need you here and not angry Cullen.”

“I will do my very best.”

“Because I want to just get this out.  Rip the bandage off.  Expel the poison…”

“Shea.  I can’t make any promises, but I will try to just sit here and listen.”

She pulls her knees to her chest and plays with the edge of his cloak.  She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.  “First, I want to tell you a little of what the demon said, that made the impact of remembering worse.”  Her chest tightens but she knows this isn’t the hard part.  “In a nutshell, he said that my family didn’t care about me.  They didn’t love me.  I was a disappointment.  Cast off, disowned, and forgotten.  Now, I was just a means to an end.  A tool to be used and discarded when I am no longer useful.  I’m alone and always will be.  Unwanted and unloved.  And I think you heard the rest of it.”

“Shea.  You know that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?  At least the family part is.  I have actual evidence to support that.  I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for the mark...” 

He reaches out touch her knee and she shakes her head.  “Are you going to tell me what that’s about?”

“I’m building up to it.  Just give me a second.”  He nods and folds his hands in his lap.  She takes another deep breath.  “Remember what you said earlier.  This is… the part where your anger comes into play.”  She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes again.  He sees the tears falling from under her lashes.  He has to fight the urge to comfort her as she doesn’t seem to want that.  “I was 14.  Sweet, naive, stubborn, a little bit rebellious, and competitive.   I spent most of the day learning some stupid Orlesian dance with… for some event that was happening.  I wasn’t even the one who needed to learn.  I wasn’t dancing at this party.  But I was the only girl suitable, so yeah.  I remembered this part and the next part, which was watching the ducks swim in our pond, bored out of my mind.  And then… the restored memory starts.  Turns out, Varric didn’t teach me to play Wicked Grace.  My… brother… did.”

“Which one?”

She hesitates.  She can’t bring herself to say his name.  “Not Emeric. Don’t say his name.”

“Alright.”

“He picked it up in the tavern and wanted to teach me to play.  But we had to do it in secret because we’d both get in trouble.  We didn’t play for coin.  The loser had to take a drink of this strawberry wine he stole from our father.  Once that was gone, we bet clothing.”

“What?”

“He told me that was how the game was played.  I went along with it for a while then… toward the end I didn’t want to play anymore.  I was uncomfortable and very drunk.  He made me feel like I wasn’t playing fair.  ‘Rules are rules.’  I lost the whole game.  It was over, I’d lost.  But he wouldn’t… give me back my clothes.  Said I had to earn them back.  That’s when he… he…”  She covers her head with his cloak unable to continue.  Cullen’s blood is boiling.  He doesn’t know what to say.  His jaw and fists are clinched.  He sees her shake out of the corner of his eye.  He knows she’s crying and he wants to hold her.  But he now understands why she shies away from him.  She takes a shaky breath, “Please… say… something…”

He tries to swallow his anger.  “I… shouldn’t say… what I’m thinking right now.”

“I’m… sorry.  That demon… was right.  I am…”  She chokes back a sob, “Spoiled goods.”

His anger snaps, replaced by something softer.  “No!  That’s not it!  You have nothing to be sorry about.  You didn’t do this.  _He_ did!”

“But I’m not a…”

“Hush.  Stop putting this on you.  What he did to you… is not your fault.  This changes nothing about how I feel about you.  As far as I’m concerned, in regards to… that… you still are.”

“But he…”

“He may have.  But that’s not something someone can just take from you.  It’s all in how _you_ define it.  It’s a choice _you_ make.  Not one that someone made for you.”  He grabs the edge of the cloak.  “Shea.  Don’t hide from me.  Please.”  She peeks her head out enough so that he can see her eyes.  He sighs.  “This is not how I wanted to do this.  I kind of had a moment planned in my head, but you need to hear this.  I love you.  I.  Love.  You.  And nothing and no one will ever take that away from you.  I am yours.  You are my heart and soul.  I don’t function without you.  This changes _nothing._ ”

“Really?”

“There isn’t a single doubt in my mind.  If anything, it’s the only thing my mind even knows is real right now.”

He hears a tiny laugh escape her.  “So, you don’t care that…?”

“No.  I don’t.  You are still the woman I love.  You are still the same person I fell in love with fighting demons, back to back, on an exploded mountain top.”

She smiles, “Me too.”

“You too?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s when I fell for you, too.”  He turns to face her more and leans back on the arm rest.  “Why did you move further away?”

“Because I… desperately want to… take you in my arms and kiss you.  And after what you just told me… I have a feeling that’s not something you’re comfortable with right now.  So, I’ve moved away to attempt to control myself.”

She pops her head out of the cloak.  “I’m sorry.   I know you aren’t him.  You couldn’t be further from him.”

“Touching is a trigger.”

“What?”

“It’s one of your triggers.  I have them too.  It takes a lot of work to get past them.”

“What caused yours?”

He chuckles, “My turn now is it?  Very well.  I told you I was tortured, but not how.  The scars on my back?  Claw marks from a desire demon.  She used Danielle’s form to manipulate me.  She uh... did things to me.  My participation brought her threw but when I realized she wasn’t actually Danielle, I fought her.  Resisted.  Saw her for what she was.  She refused to lose her play thing.  So she kept trying.  Gave me more lyrium to help me forget and she’d start again.  But once you figure it out the first time, the illusion just feels off.  It continued like that.  Tortured, lyrium, sex, more torture both physical and mental.  She tried to break me but I stayed strong.  The blood mages helped her from time to time.  When Danielle took back the Circle with Alistair, Leliana, and Wynne, I didn’t believe it was really her.  Another vision coming to taunt me.  The demon retreated to the Fade to avoid being killed.  She finally got through to me and I begged her to kill everyone in the tower.  She didn’t but she freed me once she killed the mage who cast the spell that created my cage.  And eventually, I managed to forget about the demon.  But the nightmares remained.  I became angry.  I didn’t trust any mage.  Once I calmed down, I was sent to Kirkwall, where that fear and mistrust blinded me to how mad Meredith had become.”

“I think that’s the longest you’ve ever talked without stammering.”

He smirks, “I’m sure it is.  It took me months maybe years to figure out the demon hadn’t left me.  She continues her torture to this day.  Every nightmare is her doing.”

“You mentioned triggers?”

“Ah, yes.  Thinking about it is the obvious one, but I’ve sort of managed that one.  It’s not something that’ll go away.  I don’t imagine it ever will.  It’s worse without lyrium, which causes its own set of problems.  But for a while there I had bunch more.  All of them desire related.”

“Sex?”

“Yes.  But one specific act more than others…”  His cheeks redden and rubs his neck.  “It was… the uh… demon’s favorite thing to do to me.  So, anytime…”

“Bethany helped you didn’t she?”

“I… yes.  Danielle and I were close.  But it was mostly sexual.  With Bethany… she knew I was… damaged.  She was more than willing, but… whenever we tried… to do anything, I’d be taken back to that cell.  I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when or how they stopped being triggers, just that one day I decide that I wasn’t going to let this control my life.  It was still sometime before I’d let her… do want you did to me.”

She blushes and covers her face with cloak.  “If I had known…”

“It’s fine.  I was over it by then.  Welcomed it even.  But it did take time.  I have never and will never pressure you.  So, I make you this promise.  Every time you want me to touch you, you are in control of it.  If you want me to kiss, you are in control.  Until this has passed, you are in control.”

She scoots closer to him.  She lets go of the cloak so that she’s just wearing it.  She takes his hand.  “Baby steps, right?”

“Right.”  She places his hand on her cheek.  Without even thinking, he traces his finger down her scar.  “Shit.  Control.  Sorry.”

“That’s one fine, actually.  So, you can do that one without me having to tell you to.”  He traces the scar again.  She moves closer to him, her knees touching his.  So far so good.  She runs her thumb down his scar and he smirks.

“Touch me isn’t the problem here.”

“I know.”  She pushes one of his legs off the couch.  Then makes him unbend the other.

“What on earth are you doing?” 

She presses her finger against his lips.  “Hush and wait.”  She puts one of his arms on the back of the couch.  Feeling the muscles under her fingers, she runs her hand up his arm.  He opens his mouth to comment and she narrows her eyes at him.  He closes his mouth and continues to smirk.  She sits on her knees between his legs.  “You can… kiss me now, but take it slow.”  He leans forward, gripping the couch so he doesn’t move his hands.  He brushes his nose against hers.  When she doesn’t move, he slowly closes the distance.  He very lightly kisses her.  He leans away just a little bit.  “You call that a kiss?”

“Just testing the waters.”  He kisses her again with a little more force.  She places her hands on his biceps.  His control waivers.  She feels his muscles flex from gripping the couch tighter.  She runs her hand down the arm on the back of the couch.  He loosens his grip in response and she takes his hand.  She plays with his fingers while trying to decide where to place it.  “Shea?  Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Are you… doing this for you?  Or for me?”

“Doing what?”

He motions between them with his other hand.  “This.  The touching.  The kissing.  If you feel guilty…”

“No, no, no.  I… I mean yes I feel guilty, but this is for both of us.  I don’t want to lose ground, to go backwards.  I want things to go back to the way there were.  We were in a great place before Adamant.  We were strong together in the Fade.  I don’t want one stupid memory to take anything away from us.”

“Love, it’s not going backwards. It’s… re-adjusting.   Circumstances have changed and you are having to deal with something that’s been buried for years.  This is not something that can be fixed overnight.”

“It feels like going backwards.”

“We’re not.  If anything, this has made us closer.  Nothing is hidden.  It’s all out on the table.  You know everything about my past.  And now I know everything about yours.”

She turns her body so his arm warps around her back and leans against his chest.  She tucks her head under his chin.  She makes herself into a little ball in his lap.  She reaches out and touches his other arm.  When he raises it, she takes his hand and hugs it to her chest.  He rests his chin on the top of her head and gently squeezes her. 

They are quiet for some time.   He doesn’t move, because he doesn’t want to spook her.  He just sits and holds her, enjoying the contact.  She sighs.  “What is it?”

“I can’t get comfortable”

He laughs.  “This isn’t the best position to be stuck in for any length of time.  I’m pretty sure my leg is starting to go numb.”  She stands up and holds out her hand.  He takes it and stands.  “Lead the way.”  She leads him into the bedroom.  Her heart flutters at thought of being in bed with a man, but she trusts him.  He would never hurt her.  She releases his hand and takes off his cloak.  She hands it to him and sits on the bed.  She pushes the flashes of memory away.  He seats the cloak with the rest of his armor and comes back in the room.  He leans on the door frame and watches her breathe through some internal struggle.  She lays back on the bed and rolls onto her side, facing the edge.  She pats the spot behind her and he sits.

“Are you sure about this?  You seem to be… struggling.”

“Just lay down and cuddle with me already.”

“Yes, my lady.”  He lays on his side behind her.  She reaches back and takes his hand on wraps it around her waist.  She lifts her head and he sticks his arm in the space.  She rests her head on his arm and hugs his hand to her chest.  He places his other hand on her forearm and pulls her closer.  He kisses her neck and she twitches.  “Sorry.  Force of habit.”

“I know.”  She tucks her head forward and kisses his hand.  Silence falls again.  Both of them have headaches and are exhausted.  She doesn’t know why since she’s slept for countless hours.  She’s afraid to sleep.  She knows what waits from her.  A tear falls from her eye.  Cullen’s soft snoring reaches her ears.  Her eyes start to close as she tries to fight off sleep.  A little voice in the back of her mind reminds her that if she does have a nightmare, he is right there.  He can save her from them.  She takes a small comfort in that and hugs his hand tighter.  She closes her eyes and somehow falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And also thanks for the comments!
> 
> UPDATED July 23, 2018


	41. Royals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More blasts from the past lol

Cullen is woken up by an elbow to the ribs.  He sits up and rubs his side.  Then hears her whimper.  Her eyes dart behind her eyes.  Her whole body jerks.  He rolls her onto her back.

She whimpers again, “Please.  Stop.”

He doesn’t know what to do.  He knows he needs to wake her, but he doesn’t know how to do it without scaring her more.  He thinks about all the things that made her flinch since the fade.  Her name and touching are the only things he can recall.  He growls in frustration.  He places a hand gently on her face, the only touch she never shied away from.  “Sh… Inquisitor!  Wake up.  I’m here.”

Her eyes continue to dart behind her eyes.  “No.  Don’t.  I don’t want to play anymore.”

He rubs his neck.  “Damn it.”  He feels helpless.  He shakes her shoulder.  “Inquisitor!  Wake up!”  She moves her head side to side.  Not knowing what else to do, he kisses her.  Her arms fly around him.  She kisses him back.  He grabs her face and sits up, still kissing her.  Her lips stop moving and she rests her forehead against his lips.  She takes a few shaky breaths, clinging to him like he’s going to disappear.

“Am I… awake?”

“Yes, love.  I’m here.  And you are awake.”  She takes a few deep breaths.  She continues to cling to him as she recovers from her nightmare.  He presses his lips against her sweaty forehead.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh Maker.  How am I ever supposed to sleep with that waiting for me every time?”

“I wish I knew.  I find that distractions are the best medicine.  Why do you think I work so much?”

She looks up at him, “That’s why you work so much?”

He shrugs, “I found out that diving headfirst into my work at least kept the thoughts at bay while I was awake.  If I knew what would keep me from dreaming, and thus keeping the demon at bay, I’d do it.  Potions only work for so long.  Then you become immune and the nightmares come back with a vengeance.”

“So, I’m stuck with them for now.”

“For now.  I’ve heard closure helps your mind heal, but how does one find closure with a demon you can’t even fight?”

“I can think of a few ways.  But how does one find closure when… never mind.  Talking about it makes it real.  I still don’t want it to be real.  It feels distant.  Like it should have affected me before now.  If I had had those years to cope, then maybe… ah but that’s a pointless trail to follow.”  She looks into his eyes and suddenly her to do list pops into her head.  “I’ve suddenly remembered that I have urgent things to take care of.”

“Work things?”

“Actually, no.  Personal things that I’ve used my professional connections to help with.”

“Are you abusing your title, Lady Inquisitor?”

She kisses him, “You bet.”  She ducks under his arm and gets off the bed.

“Do we have to go back?”

“Like I said, someone will find us eventually.  If we leave now, we might be able to hang onto this place for a little while longer.”  He gets off the bed and heads for his armor.  “Well, that got you moving.”

“Oh I had an idea of my own.”

“Oh?”

“If I tell Josephine that I’m about to promote someone to officer, she’ll assign them this house.  I’ve got some many men, she won’t notice that I’ve made the name up.”

“Oooh.  I like the way your mind works, Commander.”

They fall into silence as they prepare to leave.  “Are we sneaking out together?”

She thinks as she laces her boot.  “Think we can manage it?”

“Where are you headed?”

“My room.”

“Then absolutely.”

She stands and walks up to him.  “Before we go.”  She grabs his face and kisses him.  His arms snake around her and she doesn’t show any signs of distress.  Their lips move passionately.  “Thank you for saving me.”

“Always.”  They duck out the side door and sneak back through the alleys.  They climb the stairs and he stops outside the door to the kitchen.  “See you tonight?”

“Naturally.”  He kisses her and goes into the kitchen.  She goes in search of the dusty library.  She opens their secret bookcase entrance and closes it softly behind her.  She takes the stairs two at a time, passing her raven on the way up.  It looks at her with a bug in its beak.  The door to her cage is open.  She reaches in the cage and scratches its head.  She leaves the door open and continues up the stairs.  She reaches her room and goes right to her desk.  She pulls the letter from the drawer and breaks the seal.

_Inquisitor Trevelyan,_

_How do I begin?  Business or what the ol’ ball and chain had to say?  Did you write that?  Stop writing everything I say!  Give me that_

            The handwriting changes.

_Ok.  So, I sent my scribe away.  He still hasn’t grasped that I think out loud.  Anyway, I’m actually glad you reached out to me.  Redcliffe was a mess.  A mess you cleaned up and I didn’t even thank you.  So, thank you.  Teagan was very happy to have his castle back.  Though he did complain about all the blood.  Something about it taking years to clean it up after the Blight and now having to start all over.  He’s a grumpy man, but he’s grateful._

_We have heard this calling, but she already suspected it wasn’t a true calling.  She’s off somewhere researching how to stop it altogether now. I’ve never seen Adamant and I completely understand your mixed feelings about attacking the Wardens, but if the mages are sacrificing other Wardens to bind themselves to demons, they have earned the wrath I’m sure you’re about to rain down on them.  If I had resources close enough to help, I would send them.  And yes, please update me on what happens_

_I have sent some reports to Leliana.  A gesture of… something… uh good will?  Or a potential alliance?  I’m not good at this.  My wife is better._

_Speaking of my wife.  I take it that you know about her… are you sure this is safe?  Whatever.  Her being a mage.  She was living in Ferelden’s Circle before being recruited to the Wardens.  Though you probably knew that already.  She didn’t have many friends there.  One of them was a blood mage who used her good nature to escape and let her take the fall.  So not really that good of a friend.  Her other “friend” as a templar.  I’m assuming he’s the one you’re talking about._

_I was with her when we saved him.  I should probably start from the beginning.  Well, the short version. My hand is cramping.  A crazy blood mage took over the tower and started turning other mages into abominations and killing both mages and templars.  Dani convinced… oops sorry… Danielle convinced the Knight-Commander to give us a chance to save anyone we could and maybe save the Circle before he decided to kill everyone himself.  Your friend was in some sort of magic prison.  He was tortured by the head blood mage and I think a demon.  But when we killed the lead guy, the prison disappeared._

_After the Blight, she tried to write him.  To check on how he was doing, but didn’t get a response.  Then she met up with him in Kirkwall while we were there and she taught him some sort of thing that helped protect his mind in an emergency._

_Ok.  I’m sure you are aware that letter writing takes forever.  My wife and I don’t like to be apart.  She’s more than just a mage, she’s what they call a Dreamer.  She never told anyone in the Circle that so shhh.  Which means we talk every night while we’re sleeping.  I don’t get all this fade stuff, but it comes in handy.  I told her about your letter and if your friend is still having problems, she wants to help._

_She said to tell you that if you need her, for any reason, not just to help your friend.  I feel like his name was Cullen.  Isn’t he your Commander?  Have a thing for your co-worker huh?  I get it.  Sorry.  She said if you ever need her for whatever reason, to signal for her in the fade.  Something about you being stalked by spirits and they’d let her know.  Oh!  She said to take some potion... See I told her I wouldn’t remember.  You take this potion and it lets you walk around like a Dreamer, then she said to use your mark thingy and the spirits would let her know._

_This is really long.  Maybe I should have kept the scribe here.  Eh it’s done now.  Best of luck._

_~King Alistair Theirin_

 

She sighs.  _“How am I supposed to make a potion when I don’t know what it does or what it’s made of?”_

“Maybe I can help?”

Cole appears beside her and she jumps out of her chair.  “Maker’s breath, Cole.  We talked about doors, remember?”

“Oh sorry.”  He disappears and he comes in her door and up the stairs.  “It was unlocked.”

She chuckles, “It’s fine.  What can you help with?”

“Lots of things.  The painful things you are hoping I don’t mention.  They cause you pain so I won’t, but I can help with that.”

“Maybe some other time.”

“Leave it too long and it festers.”

“I know.  I’m working on it.  But what else can you help with?”

“Oh.  Your potion problems.”  He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket.  “Did you know that birds can dream?  Not all birds, but your bird.  Sky dreams, thinks, feels.  She likes you.  She felt bad that she dropped a note she found for you when she was flying in the fade.  A nice mage gave it to her.  But I found it.  I helped.”  He holds it out to her.  She takes it and looks up at him.

“I thought animals couldn’t enter the fade.”

“Sky can.  She’s a special bird.”

“How so?”

“In Haven, she was just like every other bird, but then she was assigned to you.  Spirits like you.  So they liked her too.  They wanted to help like she helps.  She’s like me now.  Both here and not.  When she sleeps, she flies in the Fade looking for things she thinks you might like.”

“Ok.  That’s… I have a spirit possessed bird now.”

“She doesn’t mind.  She likes to fly.”  Shea looks down at the paper in her hands.  She has no idea how he could have found a fade note, but if it can help, she’ll look past it.  “Are you sure I can’t help with…”

“No.  If… When I’m ready to… let you help, I assume you’ll know.”

“You helped Cullen today.  Hope, helping, healing.  His mind is better having talked to you about it.”

“Thank you, Cole.”

“I should go now?”

She smiles at him, “If you don’t mind.  Try using the door this time.”  He smiles and leaves down the stairs.  His footfalls are soundless on the stone.  She unfolds the letter.

_Shea,_

_I hope it’s alright to call you that.  The spirits echo it so often that it’s really all I know you by.  Though I’m aware of your titles, of course._

_My dear scatter brained husband told me he forgot the potion recipe I told him to give you.  I should have known better.  I couldn’t think of how to get it to you, until a Spirit of Purpose told me that another one like himself was sharing the body of a raven named Sky who works for you.  So, a little enchanted paper and vualá. You’ll need someone with magic to help you._

_List of ingredients:_

_Flask (obviously)_

_Spirit Shard X3 (can also substitute Spirit Essence, but you’ll need 6.)_

_2 parts Distillation Agent_

_3 parts Concentrator Agent_

_1 part Concentrated Elfroot_

_Fade Essence X4 (This is why you need a mage.  Although, the rifts might also have it.  The common term is ‘Fade Goo’)_

_Instructions:_

_Boil all ingredients until thick and dark green.  Let cool and put in flask.  Fair warning: It tastes like shit.  But you have to drink it slow.  I mean really slow.  Like take a sip, swallow, wait for the nausea to subside, and repeat.  Drink it all.  Don’t eat or drink anything afterward.  Then go to sleep as normal._

_You should hear Alistair complain every single day about having to take it.  Small price to pay to be with someone you love if you ask me._

_Not sure if he said, but this potion allows you control the fade, like a Dreamer.  I’ll come to you as I’m more practiced at this.  Just set off your mark and wait.  I’ll find you._

_See you in your dreams,_

_Danielle Theirin, Queen, Warden-Commander, and Hero of Ferelden.  (I could keep going but I’m running out of paper.)_

 

She has to read it a few more times.  She just got a fade letter from the Hero of Ferelden.  No one is going to believe this.  And her raven is playing host to a Spirit of Purpose.  She laughs.  _“I can’t wait to find out what other crazy shit exists in this world.”_   She copies the ingredients and instructions on a regular piece of paper and shoves both letters into a drawer.  _“Now.  Which mage do I ask?”_

She loves Dorian.  He is her best friend, but he will ask a lot of questions.  She knows that she will not be ready to answer most of them.  What does it say about the state of your friendship when you can’t talk to the people who care about you?  She quickly pushes that thought from her mind.  It’s a rabbit hole she shouldn’t go down.  Solas would ask questions, but not personal ones unless she opened the topic to him.  He is also the resident Fade expert and since they need stuff from the Fade to make this potion, he seems like the best bet.

On the way down to see him, something about the throne room seems off.  She’s been missing for hours.  Why isn’t anyone freaking out?  Correction.  She was missing for a week, shows back up, locks herself in her room, then disappears again.  This looks like any normal day.  Nobles talking nonsense to each other.  The workers taking down the rest of the scaffolding.  She stops in her tracks as she sees the large golden ravens being brought in.  She forgot she picked Marcher décor.  The idea was to make yourself more at home, but now they remind her of all the horrible things her family has done to her.

She rushes into Josephine’s office.  “I am so sorry.”

Josephine looks up from her writing, “Sorry?  For what?”

“The statues are being delivered and… I hate them.”

“What?  Really?  You said they remind you of home.”

“That’s kind of the problem.”

“Alright.  What would you prefer then?”

“Andrastian.”

“I will let the workers know not to unpack them.  We can just have them sent back.  It’s fine.  People do this sort of thing all the time.”

“Thank you, Josie.”  She turns to leave.

“Inquisitor!  Could I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Leliana and I were talking earlier.  We think that maybe…”

“What is it?”

“Maybe having a relationship with the Commander is not…”

She holds up her hand, “Oh no.  You can just stop right there.  I know you are concerned for the both of us, but believe me when I say things would be much, much worse if we weren’t together.  You have no idea how bad that would be.”

“I’m not suggesting that you stop being friends.  Leliana is concerned that being intimate might open some old wounds for him.”

“Let me reiterate something.  If we weren’t together, if we weren’t as close as we are, we’d still be stuck in the fade.  Hawke, Varric, Dorian, Iron Bull, Cullen, and myself would all be dead, not just Shroud.  And while Cullen and I aren’t hiding our relationship any more, that doesn’t make it anyone else’s business.  My… our private lives are just that.  Private.”  She takes a deep breath.  “I apologize for being so harsh.  I haven’t been sleeping well.  How are plans progressing with the Orlesian court?”

Shea really doesn’t care about that right now, but it gets Josephine off the personal topics.  She is talking a mile a minute about coaches and clothes.  They haven’t gotten an invitation yet, but she is certain if they have more influence in Orlais that it will come.  Shea nods along, not fully listening.  This is the problem with being the leader of a world saving organization and then living in the same place it operates.  Moments when you would much rather be curled up in bed reading or cuddling with your man in front of a fire or taking a long hot bath, you have to stand there and look interested when someone talks about work related things.  Adding yet another thing to growing pile of guilt she is building recently.

It is starting to scare her how easy it is becoming to be Inquisitor without even thinking about it.  Like back at Adamant.  Shea doesn’t even remember offering the Grey Wardens a place with the Inquisition, or the moral boasting victory speech she had given.  She was just sort of vaguely aware of it happening, but couldn’t remember her exact words.  If someone were to ask her what Josephine is talking about, she could probably give you the gist but no concrete details.  She needs something to get her head back in the game.

“You obviously have a lot on your plate, Lady Ambassador.  I should leave you to it.”

“You’re right.  There is so much to do.  Have a good day, Inquisitor.”

Shea leaves her office shaking her head.  If she is going to take Cullen’s advice and distract herself with work, she is going to need to focus her mind.  The only way she knows how is to travel, kill things, and help people.  She might be leaving Skyhold again sooner than she thought she would.  She stands talking to a noble about some boring thing.  She didn’t even know she stopped.  She wishes she could see what she looks like.  The noble seems pleased with whatever is happening. 

She catches a glimpse of herself in the metallic surface of the noble’s mask.  She looks healthy, radiant even.  How is that possible?  She looks exactly like the Inquisitor should look.  Strong, confident, fierce, but friendly.  She wants to run screaming from the room.  Nothing about her outward appearance even hints at her inner pain and struggles.  The conversation ends and she dips her head to the man before she continues walking.  Her chest feels tight.  Dread fills her.  _“Am I turning into my father?”_

She bypasses the rotunda.  She shoves the folded paper in her hand into her pocket.  She walks calmly to Cullen’s office.  He is working away.  “I need the room.”  The scouts all leave immediately.  Cullen looks up at her with a look of confusion.  When he makes eye contact, he rushes around the desk.

“What is it?”

“How did you now?”

“I know your eyes.”

She leans against the wall and sighs.  “Being the Inquisitor has become automatic.  So automatic in fact that I’m not even aware of it.  It scares me.  My mind is running around in circles, thinking about all sorts of things, but no one can see it.  It’s like my whole body as become masked.  Do you ever feel like that?”

“I used to.  Until I joined the Inquisition, I felt exactly like that.”

“What changed?”

“The Inquisition gave me a new purpose.  I care about the work we’re doing and being the man I was before wouldn’t have fit here.  You need time to heal and your body is giving you a way to do that.”

“But I’m supposed to be the leader.  I should be invested in this.”

“You are invested in this.”

“How can I be if I can’t remember a conversation I had a few minutes ago?”

He takes her hands.  “Shea.  You are being too hard on yourself.  You can’t force your mind to heal.  It takes time.”

“Time we don’t have.”

“The only advice I can give you, if you really want to focus on the work you’re doing, is to address the issues that are distracting you.  It might be too soon to do this, but maybe you need to confront your demon.”

“You mean… I should… go see…”

“No.  You don’t need actually look at him.  In fact, you don’t have to look at him ever again if you don’t want to.  I was suggesting writing a letter.  Putting all your cards on the table.  You don’t even have to send it.  This is for you, not him.”

“Cole offered to help.  Maybe I should let him.”

“Did he say how?”  She shakes her head.  “That’s up to you.  I’ll support you regardless of what you decide to do.”  Her brows furrow.  He releases her hands and rubs her temples.  She closes her eyes and sighs.

“You’re too good for me.”

“I feel the same about you.”  She removes his hand wraps them around her.  He pulls her in close for a hug.  She looks up at him and he kisses her softly.  “Feeling better?”

“No, but I think I can at least make it through the rest of the day.”

“You know where I’ll be if you need me.  Have you eaten?”

“I… don’t know.”

He smirks, “My how the tables have turned.  I’ll bring you something when I come to your quarters tonight.”

“Alright.”  She kisses him and they separate.  “Off to work, I guess.”

She leaves his office and walks across the bridge to the rotunda.  Solas is standing on some scaffolding, painting the wall.  She watches him for a little while.  He looks to be painting the events at Adamant.  “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You aren’t.  I’m almost done.  But we can talk while I finish if you like.”

“This is a bit out in the open isn’t it?”

“If you are referring to Dorian, he isn’t up there right now.  I would say Bull kidnapped him, but the gigging escaping from our mage friend implied that he was enjoying himself.”

She climbs up the scaffolding and stands beside him.  “You’re very good at this.”

“It’s an elven technique.  The paint is permanent once I seal it in the stone.  Much like the frescos we’ve seen in elven ruins.  Paper withers and decays.  Stone, especially the ones here, will last for centuries to come.  I felt it only fitting to document our accomplishments in this fashion.” They stand in silence while his finishes.  He puts down his brush and turns to her.  “Now, what was it you wanted to speak about?”

“What do I always want to talk to you about?”

He smiles and they climb down the scaffolding.  “What aspect of the fade you like to know more about?”

She leans against his desk.  “Dreams, and also nightmares, live in the fade, correct?  I was wondering if there was a way to…  I’m not sure what I’m trying to describe here.  It’s not as simple as just making them go away, because that isn’t exactly beneficial.  More that I was wondering if there was a way to… take control of a nightmare to take the power away from them?  That’s the worst part of a nightmare, isn’t it?  Being trapped in them.”

“Certainly.  Dreamers are masters of this.  It is hard for a most mages and particularly hard for non-mages, but not unheard of.  Your subconscious might feed your dreams to the fade and make them playout before you, but you are always present.  An unwitting participant.  The stronger the emotion tied to it, the harder it is to break free.  Now, you wouldn’t able to impact them directly.  But if you train your conscious mind to recognize the fade from the waking world, then you could lessen the effect by realizing that this dream isn’t really happening to you, in theory.”

“So, even the most horrifying nightmare could be escaped?”

“Not escaped.  Only Dreamers can do that.  But if you can pick up on the subtle difference between the two, while still forced to watch, you can turn yourself from participant to spectator.  At this point, you’d be able to wake yourself.”

“How do I go about doing that?”

“It takes time and practice.  Above all patience.  When you begin this, you must submit to your dreams.  Ride them out.  Pay attention to what is happening.  Eventually you’ll be able to notice the differences between them.  The signs that it’s just a dream.”

“That sounds both terrifying and exhausting.”

“As unfortunate as this sounds, if the nightmares are representations of actual events, it is both harder and easier to tell memory from dream.”

“Alright.  Guess I’ve got work to do while I’m sleeping now.”

“Was there anything else?”

“Actually, yes.”  She pulls the folded paper out of her pocket.  “Before I hand you this, I need your word that you won’t mention this to anyone.  I also need you to promise not to let this fall into the wrong hands.  I’m told it’s quite powerful and potentially dangerous.”

“You’ve caught my interest.  You have my word.”  She hands him the paper and he lays it out on his desk and studies it.  “Fascinating.  I’ve never seen this recipe before.  Where did you get it?”

“A… friend of a friend.”

“This only says how to make it and not what it does.  It definitely has something to do with the Fade.  And shards went out of magical fashion when the Blight ended.  It was discovered that all shards had the potential to be corrupted and were thus unreliable.  Essence has always been more pure, but harder to come by.”

“I didn’t follow most of that.”

“Sorry.  You think like a mage so often, I forget that the only magic you possess is the mark.”

“Thank you?  Is that also why you sometimes only speak to me in elven?”

“No.  I do that for two reasons.  You need the practice, though you are improving, you are still lacking in some of the subtleties.  And I rather enjoy being able to converse with someone in my natural tongue.”

“Ok.  So, the potion…?”

“Yes, I can make this.  But what does it do?”

She looks around.  She doesn’t know what his reaction will be and she doesn’t want unwelcome ears to hear her.  She leans closer to him, “My understanding is that it allows non-Dreamers to walk the fade as Dreamers would.” 

His head snaps over to her.  “This very powerful.  If it fell into the wrong hands…”

“Exactly why it must remain a secret.”

“If I may ask, why would you need such a potion?  Is this related to our earlier conversation?”

“Honestly, I hadn’t even connected the two.  I… have a meeting with this friend of a friend in the Fade.  She said this was the way to do it.”

“If she is a Dreamer, she can come to you without this.”

“Yes, but she would just a part of the dream, right?  I might not be able to interact with her.”

“And she invented this?”

“As far as I know, yes.”

He picks up the list and sticks it in his pocket.  “I’ll get started right away.”

“Could you, perhaps, make a bunch of them?”

“Define ‘a bunch’.”

“How much is too much as far as materials go?”

“I will have to check our supplies.  The two hardest things are the essences.  I’ll make as many as I can with the materials at my disposal.  It trust you have a safe place to hide them?”

“I do.”

“If all goes well, then I should have this done by tonight.  But do be careful, Inquisitor.  You’ve not walked the Fade as a Dreamer and spirits already follow you.  It will be crowded and loud when you get there.  Your presence may also attract unwanted attention.  You will be unarmed and open to possession should a demon attack you.”

“How do mages protect themselves is they are unarmed?”

He smirks, “A mage is never unarmed.”  She feels static fill the air and her mark responds.

“You said it yourself!  I have magic!”  She holds up her now brightly glowing hand.

“Very good.  You must be careful how you use it, though.  I would not open a rift as that would pull anything in its range into the room in which you are sleeping.  This would force demons and spirits alike to go mad.  If you are physically attacked and killed while in the fade, you will be trapped there.”

“Duly noted.”

“Come by before you turn in for the night.  I’ll have them ready for you.”

“Thank you, Solas.”

“I do hope you’ll tell me about this experience tomorrow.”

She pushes herself away from his desk and smiles, “Of course.”  She goes back into the throne room and looks around.  With her to do list completed, she doesn’t really know what to do.  She decides it’s been a while since she checked in with all her friends, and though difficult questions might arise, she would enjoy a moment to talk to them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strap in! The next chapter is a whooper!
> 
> UPDATED July 23, 2018


	42. When You Say Nothing At All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::insert knowing smirk here::

Shea carries the clinking wooden box up the stairs to her room.  Solas managed to make ten potions from the supplies on hand and one trip to the fade.  She doesn’t know why she needs more than one, but she’d figure that out later.  She lied to him before.  She has no idea where she is going to hide them.  She also needs a better hiding place for the letters from Ferelden’s royal family.  She doesn’t have time to think about that right now.  Cullen will be there any minute.  She slides the box under her bed.  She’ll have to make sure she can get to the box after he does to sleep.

She quickly throws open her wardrobe.  She wants to be changed before he gets there.  She doesn’t want to tempt him any more than she already does.  She opts for thick gray tights and the black shirt he wore when they were poisoned.  She is grateful Dorian was able to get it clean.  She laces it up completely and sits at her desk.  She opens the drawer and moves the letters to the bottom.  She grabs some old reports and covers the letters.

She hears the bolt on the door unlock.  She rushes to the couch in front of the fire.  She never moved it back by the railing, because she likes it there.  She hears the door lock and boots on the stairs.  She prays that he doesn’t find the box of potions.  She really doesn’t want to have to explain that she is about to meet his ex-lover in the fade.

The smell of food hits her nose and her stomach growls.  She turns to watch him come in the room.  He’s in his comfortable clothes, but his mantle is still wrapped around him.  “What’s for dinner?”

“Ram stew and freshly baked bread.  That’s what took me so long to get here.”  Her mouth waters.  She can see the bread steaming next to the bowl of stew.  He smirks as she stares at the food.  “You really haven’t eaten at all today.”  She shakes her head.  He sets the tray on the small table and sits next to her.  She grabs the bread and smells it.  She feels a small pang of sadness in her heart.  Her old room comes into her mind.  She still remembers it fondly.  It might be the only thing about her old home that she misses.  Sneaking Moira in for sleepovers.  Giggling as she hid under the bed when someone knocked.  “Are you ok?”

“Yeah.  Just remembering some happier times.” 

He watches her eat in silence.  He can feel the new distance between them.  He curses that demon for causing it.  Though emotionally he never felt closer to her, but she doesn’t sit as close to him as she used to.  She doesn’t look at him as much.  Something feels like it is missing when she kisses him.  He stares into the fire.  He feels selfish for thinking it.  He has been in her shoes.  Though he wasn’t assaulted by a family member, he was still physically and sexually abused.  He knew exactly what it took to get past that.  He knows that it never leaves you, but you learn to live with it and he has had years to finally come to where he is now.

“What are you thinking about?”

He looks over at her.  She is sitting crossed legged on the couch, facing him.  She is nibbling on her bread like a mouse.  He smiles, “Nothing really.  Just…”

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are lying.  You had your thinking face on.”

“My… thinking face?”

“Yep.  You stare off into space and your eyes get all squinty.”

“Ok.  I was thinking.  But it wasn’t anything important.”

“If you say so.”  She turns back toward the fire and continues to eat. 

“Are you… upset with me?”

“No.  I was just wondering what was going on in your head.  To distract me from what’s going on in mine.”

“I was thinking about you.  About how… similar we are.”

“Do you think that’s why we work so well together?”  He looks back at the fire.  “Cullen?”  He looks at her again.  She’s not looking at him.  “Do you think… do you ever think about what would have happened if… all those things hadn’t happened to you?”

“I’ve never considered it.  I suppose I’d still be a templar.  Probably would have taken over Ferelden’s Circle eventually.  And… I think I would have died at the conclave.”

“What if the rebellion never happened?”

“That has been building for a very long time.  I can’t see it ever not happening.  But, hypothetically, I’d still be there.  Serving.  Being a templar was never like I imagined it as a child.  One day the lyrium would take my mind.  I’d live out the rest of my life with the memories of failed harrowings and lyrium sickness.  The chantry would keep me supplied, but one day… I wouldn’t be me anymore.”  He sighs, “But I wouldn’t change anything.  Though I have to constantly battle with my… addiction and the lingering effects of my bad experiences.  One day my withdrawals will end.  The nightmares might still remain, but my mind would be my own.  I can think of nothing I want more… save one.”

“And what’s that?”

“You.  If none of the things in my past had happened, I would not have found you.  Our paths would have never crossed.”

“They might have.”

“Possibly.  I pose the same questions to you.  Where do you think you’d be if you weren’t at the conclave?  Or if you never forgot?”

She hugs her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them.  “I’ve thinking about that a lot, actually.  Which isn’t really helping me get over this.  If I had never gone to the conclave, I’d be training to be a templar now, a family spy within the Order.  I don’t know where I’d be stationed, but I might have ended up in Ferelden.  But that’s only if I had forgotten.  I can’t even guess how this would have affected me back then.  Seeing him every day.  Feeling guilt and shame at what had happened.  Not being able to tell anyone.  Never meeting Moira.  Never going to Kirkwall.  I probably would have been shipped off to some chantry to pray and be forgotten.”

“If you could change anything, would you?”

“I don’t know.  If I never remembered, then I’d never know.  Nothing would be different.  Expect that I wouldn’t be suffering as I am.  But I wouldn’t know how truly monstrous my entire family is.  Both of my brothers would… and who’s to say he wouldn’t have tried again?  He got away with it the first time.  Hell, at this point, who’s to say he didn’t.  The Nightmare only restored one memory.  I could have suppressed or forgotten others.”

“This is not a healthy communication we find ourselves in.  What-ifs are dangerous.  Let’s not think of this anymore.  What’s done is done.  All we can do is move forward.  We can’t live in the past.  But we can live in the here and now.  Just you and I against a world that wants to tear itself apart.”  She scoots closer to him and lays her head in his lap.  He gently pulls her hair out the ponytail and runs his fingers through it.  She looks into his golden eyes.  She can see her salvation in them.  She’s determined to find some distance between her and her past.  “What are you thinking?”  She smirks.

“Sometimes I think you know me too well.  I was thinking that there are only a handful of things I know to be true in the here and now.”  She holds up her thumb.  “One: I am _never_ going back to Ostwick.  Unless it’s to seal a rift, but I’m _never_ going back to my old life.”  She adds her index finger, “Two:  I won’t be playing Wicked Grace anytime in the near future.  It’ll break Varric’s heart, but he’s just going to have to deal with it.”  She adds her middle finger, “Three: I will not let Corypheus win.  I don’t care what horrors he tries to throw in my path, I will end him.”  She adds her ring finger, “Four: If I ever see… Brandon… again, I’m going to kill him like I killed Emeric.  Let some other family member take over Ostwick.  I think it’s time the Trevelyan line ended.”  She adds her pinky finger, “Five: If I ever get my hands on the demon that is torturing you, I’m killing her.  Slowly.”  She smirks, “Ok maybe there’s more than a handful.”  She holds up her other thumb.  “Six: There is nothing that will _ever_ take you away from me.  I will not allow it.  The reverse is also true.  So, seven.”  She adds her other index finger.

He takes her hands.  “I’m sure there’s more, but you don’t have to keep going.”

“No, I think that is about it.”

“There is one thing I wish that I could do.”

“What’s that?”

“Take this pain you are feeling away from you.  Like I did in Haven, when I…”

She sits up, “What are you talking about?”

He groans, “I never told you.  I actually never planned to.  That just sort of slipped out.  After you stabilized the Breach, we were all worried that you had used too much energy and that you might not wake up.  I volunteered to monitor you while you slept and I noticed that the mark was keeping you from getting any solid rest.  So I… transferred the pain… to myself.”

“What?!  How?!”

“A combination of different techniques I picked up as a templar.  For almost an entire day, anytime your mark flared, the pain was transferred to me.  I know exactly how those shooting pains you get feel.  I had a ghost mark and everything.”

She can’t find words.  She just stares at him.  A variety of emotions flood through her.  Anger, sympathy, shock, guilt, gratefulness, love.  She touches his face.  “You didn’t even know me.  Why would you?”

“I told you.  I fell in love with you the moment I saw you.  I couldn’t bear to see you in constant pain and I wanted to see your eyes again.  I had no regard for my own comfort.  Just yours.  I still feel that way.  Any pain I feel pales in comparison to the pain I feel when you hurt.”

“Cullen… I don’t know what to say.  The mark is my burden.  I can’t believe you’d…”  She kisses him.  The force knocks him back and she ends up on top of him, straddling him.  He wraps his arms around her.  Their lips and breath tangle together.  She hands grip the fur of his cloak.  He feels her pull on it.  He sits up and struggles to remove it.  She tugs at the laces on his shirt.  He stops kissing her then.

“Shea.  Maybe we should…”

“Shut up.”  She returns to kissing him.  She tugs at the laces again.  He helps her untie them.  They pause long enough for him to get his shirt off.  She can feel him starting to presses against her.  Her mind starts to protest and she locks it down.  She thinks of nothing but the man in front of her.  The depth of his love for her.  She hasn’t recoiled at his touch once and she will not let anything take this moment from her.  She threads her fingers in his hair.  He moans against her mouth.

His hands are wrapped around her, but they don’t move.  He’s fighting to control himself.  She can feel his muscles tensing as they try to resist.  She stops kissing him and looks into his eyes.  He wants her.  She can see that written all over his face.

“Shea.”

She groans, “Just go with it.  Trust that I’ll stop you if I need to.”

She sees his control snap as he pulls her face to his.  Lips, tongues, breaths.  She feels his hands grip her shirt.  Yet he doesn’t move them.  She reaches between them to untie the laces on it.  Her fingers are clumsy.  He moves her hands and tugs on the string.  The knot is pulled lose and he finishes unlacing the shirt.  Then he picks her up.  Her legs wrap around his waist and she throws her arms around his neck.  Their faces seem to be glued together.  He stumbles to her bed.  When his knee makes contact, he bends forward to slowly lower her onto it.  She sits on the edge.  He stands and quickly unlaces his boots.  He throws them and his socks to the side.  She runs her hands up his chest and pulls his face back toward hers.

He crushes down on top of her as she pulls him down.  Feeling the twitch rising in her body, she tries to roll them over.   He feels her cue and rolls with her onto his back.  She straddles him again.  He slides his hands up her thighs and stops when he reaches her ass.  She pulls him to a seated position.  She grabs his hands and makes them continue their way up.  He pulls his face from hers to look into her eyes.  They sparkle back at him.  Her desire for him to touch her reflecting in the ocean blue pools.  He slides his hands under her shirt and up her sides.  She shudders and he stops.

“Don’t stop.  I’m fine.”  Her eyes tell him she means it so he continues.  He runs his hand up her arms, lifting them above her.  He pulls the shirt over her head and tosses it.  He presses himself against her feeling her soft skin touch his.  He runs his hands up her back.  She lets her head fall back and the side.  He kisses along her jaw.  “It’s ok.”  He kisses down her neck and across her collar bone.  She pushes him onto his back.  He looks up at her, both of them breathless.   He runs his fingers along the scar on her arm.  A reminder.  She trembles onto top of him.

“Shea…”

“Shut up.”  She takes his hand and places it on the scar on her side.  He trails his fingers along it.  “These are reminders.  When I’m afraid, they bring me back to you.”  He nods.  “Just… reminder that… if I start slipping away.”  He nods.  “And you’ll know, when I want you to stop.”  He nods.  She licks her lips and places her hands on his chest.  His fingers still trace her scars, waiting.  She meets his eyes and nods.  His hands move slowly.  He moves one to the small of her back.  The other moves down the trace the newest scar.  He caress her stomach and places his palm on her abs.  She closes her eyes.  He very slowly slides his hand up and stops it over her heart.

“Look at me, Love.”  She opens her eyes looks and down into his molten honey eyes.  His hands moves and tenderly caresses her breast.  She inhales and moans.  His sits up and kisses her collarbone.  His hand massaging and teasing.  She forgot how good his hands feel on her.  He brushes his thumb against her erect nipple.  She moans loudly and throws her head back.  He squeezes and rubs her nipple as he kisses down her chest.  He teases her other nipple by brushing his nose across it.  She grabs fistfuls of his hair.  He groans.  He teases her again.  She pants and squirms on top of him.  The length of him presses into her inner thigh.

He sucks and licks her nipple.  She can’t take it anymore.  She pushes him back on to the bed and stands.  He opens mouth to speak and she covers it.  She pulls off her tights and stands naked at the end of the bed.  He sits up, scoots to the end of the bed, and stands in front of her.  She grabs the waistband of his pants and begins unlacing them.  She reaches down the front and runs her hand along his throbbing member.  He quickly removes his pants and smalls in one quick movement.  She stokes him again and he takes her hand.  He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes hold his question.  Is this it?  Is she ready for this?  Shea sees his concern and the questions in his eyes.  “I want you.”

That’s all he need.  He wraps his arms around her and kisses her.  She grabs his muscular butt and pulls him closer.  He turns them around and backs her slowly into the bed.  She feels it behind her and sits.  She backs away from the edge as he mirrors her movements, hovering on all fours above her.  She settles herself on the bed and touches his chest.  Her fingers are trembling.  He covers her hand with his.  He bends down and kisses her.  There’s fire behind the kiss.  A heat she can’t describe.  It makes her crave him, she feels that heat travel though her and settle between her legs.

She relaxes under his touch.  His finger traces the scar on her thigh.  He sits back on his knees and runs his hands up her legs. She spread them open and bites her lip.  He caresses her inner thighs.  He looks into her eyes.  She looks a little scared, but excited.  With one hand, he traces her thigh scar.  He places his other hand against the heat of her.  He can feel how wet she is.  He slowly slides two of his fingers inside her.  She gasps and moans.  He moves them in and out. 

Her breath quickens and her face flushes.  He rubs his thumb on her clit.  She tightens around his fingers and her back arches.  She cries out with pleasure.  As her orgasm subsides, he climbs up her body and kisses her.  He lowers himself on top of her.  He lets her gets used to the weight of him as he supports himself on his elbows.  He caresses her face.  She threads her arms under his and places her palms on his back.  He reaches down between them.  He trails his fingers down the scar on her face with the other hand.  He grabs hold of himself and she feels the tip of him presses against her.  She tenses.  He breathes against her ear, “Relax.  I’m not going to hurt you.”

She shakes, “I know.”

“We can…”

She shakes her head.  “I’m ready.”

He trails his fingers along her face scar again.  She relaxes slightly.  He lines himself up with your opening.  She takes a deep breath and he enters her.  Her nails dig into his back and she gasps.  He cradles her face between his hands.  Her body shakes and he brushes his fingers on her scar.  The memory threating to surface fades away completely.  Her hands relax.  He rotates his hips forward, driving his length in her.  His rocks his hips back and forth.  She moans and bites her lip.  She wraps her legs around him.

They move together.  Her back arching.  He kisses her as his movements build in intensity.  She cries out and she tightens around him.  Spasm roll through her, her breath caught in her throat.  He thrusts his entire length inside her and she cries out again.  She moves her arms and wraps them around his neck.  He moans and pants in her ear.  She threads her fingers into his hair.  She rocks her hips and his moans deepen.  Spasm of pleasure continuously pulse through her body.  He buries his faces in her neck and kisses her.  His thrusts are faster, harder.  She gently pulls his hair as she rides the waves rushing though her. 

He moans her name.  She breaths his name against his ear.  His muscles tense and he keeps moving inside her.  She feels like she can’t breathe.  She feels like she’s drowning in him.  But in the best of ways.  He trembles in her arms.  She tightens her legs around him.  With one final thrust, he holds his breath.  His hands grip her shoulders.  His back curves.  Warmth floods her to the core as he cums.  He lets his breath out in a slow moan and collapses on top of her.

They lay there entwined together as their breathing returns to normal.  He moves before she does.  He removes himself from her and starts to roll onto his back. She stops him.  “What it is?”

“Just.  Stay.  There.”  She’s still breathing heavily.  He raises himself up on his forearms so he can see her face.  Her skin glistens with sweat, strands of her hair sticking to her face.  He pushes the hair from her face.

“Are you…?”

She nods, “I’m… that was… wow.”

He smirks and runs his finger down her scar.  “This can’t be comfortable for you.”

“What?”

“All my weight just…”

“Oh.  Well, I mean there are benefits to this, but uh…”  She looks away from him.  “When you were about to roll off me, I…”

“Gotcha.  Staying right here then.”  She looks up at him.  His hair is in disarray.  She reaches up to touch the strands hanging down on his forehead.  The sweat has curled it more than she’s ever seen it.  She chuckles.  “What?”

“You’re always so quick to slick your hair back that I’ve never seen it curl like this.”

“I used to just let it do its own thing.  Then I decided I needed a change.  I let it grow out and now I slick back.”

She twists the curl around her finger.  “I like it.”  He kisses her.

“My arms are starting to cramp.”

She laughs. “Alright.”  He rolls onto his back and brings her with him.  She fold her hands on his chest and rests her chin on them.  “You look tired.”

“I could sleep, but I’m rather enjoying the moment.”  He runs his fingers through her matted hair.  “How did I get so lucky?”

“When you figure that out, let me know.”  He wraps his arms around her and brings his hands to rest on her behind.  She crawls up him and kisses him.  “We really should get some sleep.”  _“That box is on the wardrobe side of the bed.”_   She pulls back the covers and climbs under them.  He pulls them back on his side and does the same.  She lays on her side next to him.  Her head resting on his arm.  They are quiet for a while.

“Shea?”

“Hmm?”

“What made you decide that tonight was the night?”

She looks up at him.  “I… can’t pin point it exactly.  I suddenly felt very brave.  And something about you’re willingness to take on that kind of pain on top of the pain you feel everyday… made me want to pounce you.”

He laughs.  “And pounce you did.”  He turns his head to kiss her forehead.  “Good night, love.”

She smiles, “Good night.”  She is going to have to come up with something for him.  He has apparently decided to call her ‘Love’, which she likes.  She closes her eyes.  She can feel him watching her.  She can’t go to sleep yet, she has something to do.  But she has to wait.  His breathing levels out.  Slow and steady.  His arms loosen.  She opens her eyes to look at his face.  His mouth is slightly open and softs snores are slipping through.  Still she waits.  When she feels herself start to doze, she knows she needs to hurry.  She gently lifts his arm and moves it off her.  Then she moves the other one.  As slowly as she can manage, she rolls away from him.  She reaches under the bed and feels for the box.  It clinks when she touches it and she glances back at him.  He hasn’t moved.  She slowly opens the lid and removes the vile looking potion.  She closes the lid of the box and carefully slides it back under the bed.

She sits up and pulls cork.  _“Ok.  She said to drink it slow.  Sip, swallow, wait for the nausea to stop, and repeat.”_   She brings the flask to her lips and tilts it back.  She watches the viscous fluid roll slowly towards her.  It moves like cold molasses.  This is going to worse than she imagined.  Finally it reaches your mouth and she lets it fall in.  She nearly drops the flask and spits it out.  She covers her mouth and forces herself to swallow.  She feels like vomiting as she feels the potion slide down her throat.  _“How the fuck does the king do this every night?”_   It takes a very long time to finally finish the whole thing.  She wants water so bad.  The taste and the feel of it makes her want to chug a whole pitcher, but she knows she isn’t allowed to. 

She gets out of bed and brushes her teeth.  That isn’t against the rules.  As she stands there, she feels something drip down her thigh.  It almost pushes into full blown freak out since her past experience lets her know instantly what is.  She grabs a towel, dips it in a bowl of water, and quickly cleans herself down there.  She may have been innocent or naive, but she knows how children are created.  She prays that she doesn’t get pregnant.  That’s the last thing she needs right now.  She wonders if there she would have been afraid of that back then.  She shakes her head.  This is not a good train of thought.  She washes her face and goes back to bed.  She carefully curls back against him.  Feeling her move, he shifts and wraps his arms around her.  She looks up at him and sighs.  He is still asleep.  Her eyes lids grow heavy and she snuggles into him.  She twirls his chest hair between her fingers as she falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it hot in here? lol
> 
> UPDATED July 23, 2018


	43. Save Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift

Shea opens her eyes.  Spirits surround her.  Clamoring for her attention.  She lifts her marked hand and they quiet down.  She notices she is wearing a glove.  She looks down at herself and she is wearing her armor.  _“Weird.”_   A little ball of light appears to wave at her.  She waves back and it does flips in the air.  Giggles echo around her.  “So, this is the fade?”

“Of course, it is.”  A pink owl tilts its head at her.  “You wanted to come here, reminder?”

“Yes.  I was just making sure.”

The owl scoffs, “What a silly question.”

“I take it you all know I’m here to meet someone.”  The owl rolls its large eyes.  “Alright.  No need to get sassy.”  She walks away from the group of spirits and looks around her.  In the distance, she can see the ghostly silhouette of Skyhold.  It’s covered in bright green vines.  “Why does it look like that?”

The owl flies to her and perches on her shoulder.  “That’s just one way it looks in the fade.  This is just how it looks now.”

“It isn’t covered in vines now.”

“No.  The vines are its roots, so to speak.  Fade anchors, for lack of a better term.  Skyhold is ancient.  Many beings in the fade have memories of it, both good and bad.  Even if Skyhold were a pile of rubble, it would look like that.  Your efforts to rebuild it have also rebuilt it in the fade.  You could even walk around it if you wanted.”

She looks over at it.  “Maybe some other time.  I have to get to this meeting.”

“Say no more.”  The owl flies away.  She raises her marked hand.  She focuses her energy into it.  She doesn’t want to use its power.  Solas said that would be bad.  Instead, she makes it flare.  The pain shoots up her arm and bright green light illuminates the area.  The spirits disperse leaving her standing alone.  She feels uneasy in the fade.  Dreams and nightmares are one thing, but actually being there for the third time makes her uncomfortable.

She wants a weapon, something she can actually use to defend herself if she needs to.  The mark might scare them off, but she can’t actually use it.  If a demon does attack, they’d figure that out fairly quietly and she is on their turf.  They have the advantage here.  Her eyes are constantly searching the area.  If she has to punch a demon in the face to defend herself, she will.  She is not about to get possessed without a fight.

She catches movement out of the corner of her eye and turns to face it.  A woman with long flowing light blonde hair is standing before her.  She is wearing an airy, pale yellow dress that only makes her piercing green eyes stand out more.  She looks ethereal, almost like a spirit.  She is breathtaking.  It takes Shea a moment to notice the pink owl on the woman’s shoulder.  “So.  You’re the Herald of Andraste?”

“I… uh… usually just use Inquisitor.  Or Shea.  That whole Herald thing has been busted.”

The woman smiles, “Just because she didn’t give you the mark or save you from the fade, doesn’t mean you weren’t still chosen.  The Maker works in many ways.”

“Right…”

The woman laughs, “Sorry.  Where are my manners?”  She holds out her hand, “Danielle Theirin.”

“And I’m…”  Danielle shoos the owl away.  “Well, that’s just rude.”  It flies away.

Shea’s eyes nearly pop out of her head.   _This_ is the Hero of Ferelden?   _This_ is Cullen’s ex?  She takes her hand and shakes it.  “Shea. “

She laughs, “You said that.  Did you think I was a spirit?”

“Honestly?  Yes.  You aren't quite what I imagined from the stories.”

“Ah, the stories.  Which version I wonder?  There are lots of them. All heavily edited to scrub away some things people can't know. One day that might change, but until then...”

“I wouldn't say anything.”

She smiles, “I know. You wouldn't say it in your secret letter to Alistair and you were able to bypass Leliana’s watchful eyes.  A woman of your skills makes for a great friend or a dangerous enemy. I'm hoping for friendship personally.  I'm sure it's awkward enough meeting your… _friend’s_ ex-lover.”

“Oh. Well… I got the impression it was more than that.”

“Maybe.  But that's the past and I have no desire to make this a pissing contest.  We were children then.  Young love can't hold a candle to real love.”

“I wouldn't know.”

Danielle scratches her arm, “So… I came here to help because it sounds like I have unfinished business.”

“If you mean that the demon that tortured Cullen all those years ago, then yes.  Because according to him, she is torturing him from the fade.”

She places a hand on her chin, “I… I wasn’t aware that a demon was there.  All he said was that Uldred, the blood mage, was the one who tortured him.”

“According to Cullen, the initial capture and torturing was done by Uldred.  At some point he passed out and while his mind was in the fade, a desire demon came to him disguised as you.  You… she… did some sexual things to him, and his participation brought her through.  Once she was in the waking world, he saw her for what she was.  She was therefore unable to possess him.  Then she tortured him.  From the way he describes it, she would… rape him… and when he wouldn’t cooperate, she would scratch him.  This went on for days.”

Danielle sits on a nearby rock.  “Maker.  No wonder it was so hard for him to believe I was real.”  She growls.  “I’m so stupid!  I should have seen the signs!  I wasn’t an apprentice.  I knew about demons and how they worked.  I should have known.”

“He doesn’t blame you.  He knows you tried.  He didn’t even know she was still there in the Fade until later.”

“And he has lived like that… for a decade?”  Shea nods.  “But if he was managing fine, well not _fine_ , but managing it for so long, what changed?”

Shea sighs.  “He’s going to kill me if he finds out I told anyone, even you, the things he has only ever been able to tell me, but… he’s not a templar anymore.  He quit.”

“Quit?”

“Meaning he just left the Order.”

“But they would cut him off.”

“He made the choice.  He hasn’t had lyrium since joining the Inquisition in Kirkwall.”

Danielle jumps up, “That could kill him!”

“He’s being monitored.”  Shea recalls a conversation she had with him about his mind protection trick.  “Wait.  When you taught him that mind protection thing, did you not know?”

“No.  He said it was for the nightmares.”

“While technically true, he uses it to protect himself from the demon when the headaches and withdrawal makes him lose consciousness.”

Danielle grumbles, “Oh.  That ass.  I should have known he wasn’t telling me everything.  If I ever seen him again, I’m going to slap the shit out of him.”

“I made him promise not to do it anymore.  I didn’t think it was safe to be using his abilities while trying to get past his withdrawal.”

Danielle paces.  “He’s going to kill himself if he’s not careful.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

Danielle smirks, “You must really care about him.”

“I love him.”

“Oh!  So that’s why you’re doing all this!  I was thinking, ‘Damn, I know he’s great in bed, and he’s probably only gotten better with age.’  All men do.  We start to sag and deflate, but men.  Ugh.  Don’t even get me started on that.  Anyway, I was thinking, ‘Why is this girl trying so hard to help him?  It can’t just be to get him to bed.”  Shea is blushing harder than she’s ever blushed before.  She looks at the ground and runs the toe of her boot through a puddle.  Danielle laughs, “Oh man!  You’ve already… and you’re what 20 maybe 21?  He certainly has a type.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s not a dig at you by any means.  He gets older but the girl’s he sleeps with always stay the same age.  Think about it.  I was 17 when we started our affair.  Bethany was close to your age when they got together.  I only know about her because they were together when we visited Kirkwall.  And now you.  I’m not sure if he’s slept with other women, but his ‘relationships’ are all with young women.”

“It’s not… we… why do you keep saying lover or affair?  It was my understanding you were an item.  Something serious.”

She scoffs, “As serious as a relationship between a templar and a mage can get inside the circle.  Our relationship was… mainly sexual.  I think I was easier with Bethany, because he was in a position of power.”

Shea sits on the rock.  “I feel sick.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to upset you.  You obviously know him better than I do.”

“It’s not that.  We’ve talked about all that.  I’m just getting your side of it.  I mean I feel actually sick.”

Danielle summons her magic and hovers her hands over her.  “This is… uh… an invasive question, but did you and Cullen have sex tonight?  Like before you took that potion?”

“Um…”  She blushes, “Yes.  Why does that matter?” Danielle looks around.  Shea hears a small gasp and looks up at her.  “What?!”

“You said ‘desire demon’, right?”

“Yes, but why…?”

Danielle points to the fade version of Skyhold.  “Look.  In the highest window.” Shea stands and looks to where she’s pointing.

“That’s my window, but I don’t see anything.”

“Watch closely.”  They stand there watching her window.  Finally, Shea sees a glowing purple figure in the window.

“What the fuck is that?”

“I think that’s his demon.  She’s still in the fade, but he’s just had sex so the desire in him is strong.  You need to get up there.”

“What?  How?”

Danielle chuckles, “We’re going to hate me for this.”  She turns Shea to face her.  She makes eyes contact with her.  “Wake up.”

***

Cullen stands at her window.  Watching the light from the full moon dances across the rooves of Skyhold.  The doors to her balcony are open and a cool breeze brushes against his bare skin.  He feels light and blissful.  He looks over his shoulder.  Shea is laying on her stomach, naked in the moonlight, her hair over her face.  Just below the fringes of her hair he can see her mouth hanging open and hear the soft snores passing through her open lips.  He turns back to the window and looks up at the stars.  _“Maker, how did I get so lucky?”_

He feels soft hands wrap around him, palms pressed against his stomach.  She kisses his back, “Come back to bed.”

“I will in a minute.”

“But I want you.”  He smirks and turns in her arms.  A scream almost escapes him.  Shea is still on the bed.  Standing in front of him with her arms wrapped tenderly around him is his desire demon.  Red eyes, purple skin, horns.  He tries to push her off him, but her claws dig into his back.  When she speaks, it is with Shea’s voice.  “Oh, Cullen.  I need you.”

“Stop it!  I told you, you couldn’t have her.”

She cackles, “My dear.  That was before you slept with her.  Gave in to your _desire._ ”

He pulls her claws out of his back and shoves her away.  “I would never give in to you!”

“But you already have.  Do you really think she was ready for you to take her?  I don’t.  Not after a certain… friend… of mine gave her back her memories.  A fragile mind is so easy to manipulate.”  The demon slinks over to where Shea is sleeping.  She runs a single claw down her spine.  “Such a young, pretty thing.”

“No!  I don’t believe you!”

She sighs, “Oh alright.  It’s true I didn’t manipulate her, but I could.  She is wide open to me right now.  An empty vessel, just waiting to be filled.”

“You stay away from her.”

“She wouldn’t mind.  She gets to be with you.  All the time.  Never wearing clothes again.

He steps towards her.  “Get away from her!  _Now!_ ”

“Oooh.  So demanding.  If I leave her alone, what do I get out of this?  As far as I can see, it’s a win-win for both of us.  I leave you alone.  I no longer torment you.  And you get a lover who will always be willing and ready whenever you want her.  She wouldn’t even know I was there.”  The demon leans down to Shea’s face.  Her snake like tongue licks Shea’s lips.

“Stop it!”

The demon brushes Shea’s hair away from her face.  “It would only take a second and then you could live in pleasurable bliss forever.”  The demon French kisses Shea’s sleeping body.  It jerks wildly.

Cullen charges forward, his hands balled in fist.  “You can’t have her!”  The demon is in front of him in a flash, her dagger like claw jabs him under his chin.

“You’re in my world, mortal.  You are my pet and I will get what I want.”  She smirks, “I present you with a choice then.  Let me ride inside you or I’ll ride her while she rides you.”

Cullen’s eyes dart to Shea.  He can’t.  If he has no other options, then he would gladly choose himself.  Shea is more important than him in a number of ways.  He can only imagine the horrors that would be unleashed on the world if the Inquisitor became an abomination.  He can’t let that happen.  If the demon took over, Shea wouldn’t be Shea anymore and he would have to live with the knowledge that he caused it.

He blinks and Shea’s body disappears.  The demon spins around and roars.  “What have you done with her?”

“I didn’t…”  She wraps her claws around his neck and pins him to the wall.

“I will get what I want!”

The scar on his lip tingles.  The demon is cutting off his air and preventing him from moving or speaking.  He feels it again.  Almost like someone is touching it.  Her voices rings in his ears, “Cullen!  Cullen!  Wake up!”

The demon growls.  “You aren’t going anywhere!”

“Cullen!”

He smirks.  “You almost had me, demon.  This isn’t real.  This is a dream.”

“I am very real!”

Her voice rings in his ears again, “Cullen!  Punch that bitch in the face!”

His smile widens.  The demon glares at him.  “You would only be hurting yourself.”

“Care to test that?”

She jumps back from him.  “You can’t elude me forever.  One day your mind with break and I’ll have you.”  She vanishes.

***

Cullen bolts upright in bed.  He nearly head butts Shea, but she is anticipating his jolt.  He sighs and rests his forehead on hers.  She runs her finger down his scar.

“Did you punch her?”

He laughs, “Never got the chance.”  He looks up at her, “Wait.  Did you actually say that?  I thought I dreamed it.”

“I’m pretty sure we had help.

“Help?”

“Now, don’t get mad, but I may have reached out to someone who has firsthand knowledge about the shit you went through.  She was real mad that you didn’t mention the demon sooner.”

He leans back and takes her face in his hands.  “You spoke to Danielle?!  But how?!”

“I probably shouldn’t say.”

“Shea.”

She sighs.  She pulls his hands from her face and sits back on her knees.  “I wrote to Alistair, who passed the message to her.  And we… met up in the fade.”

“What did you do?”

“Calm down.  It didn’t use the mark!  I’m not Corypheus.  She gave me a potion that lets me move around like a Dreamer.”

He rubs his face, “Andraste’s preserve me.  Shea, you don’t have magic.  You could have been possessed.  In fact, you almost were!”

“But I wasn’t.  She woke me up.”

He moves her to the side and stands up.  “I’m really trying not to be mad right now.  But are you crazy?!  Something could have happened to you.  You don’t understand the fade.  You have no way to defend yourself.  Even Dreamers have a hard time.”

She stands up, “I was trying to help you!”

He turns to face her, “Damn it, Shea!  Do you have any idea what almost happened?  What was seconds away from happening?  That fucking demon is always around me in the fade.  She almost had me, Shea!”

“But she didn’t.”

He growls and walks away from her.  “Danielle was always fucking reckless.  She means well.  Both of you mean well.  But you only think of the consequences of your actions after you’ve done something that could get you killed or worse.”

“What is this really about?  That I went behind your back to try to find a way to rid you of this burden?  That I reached out to her for help?  What?”

He runs his fingers through his hair, “Like I said.  You mean well, but good intentions aren’t going to protect you from a demon hell bent on getting her way!”

“Will you stop stalking around the room like a caged animal and look at me?”  He turns to face her.  “You deserve to be free of this.  She would have done it if she had known back in Ferelden’s Circle.  But she didn’t know.  I can’t just sit around with my thumbs up my ass watching while this bitch tries to break you.  It’s been a decade and the withdrawals make your mind weak.  Whether I went into the fade or not, we have no way of knowing if or when this demon wins.”

“You aren’t listening to me.  You were almost possessed!  It came down to you or me.  And you were helpless to stop her.”

“I wasn’t alone.”

“Right.  _She_ was there.”

“Are you still holding on to some grudge you have against her?  You said yourself she was manipulated and then conscripted.  She saved you.”

“I don’t care about her.  But she should know better.  Helping a non-mage walk the fade?  She’s the fucking Queen, she should act like it.”

“She does this with Alistair all the time!”

“And that makes it better?  If anything that makes it worse!  She’s putting Ferelden at risk by being selfish.  And she’s putting all of Thedas at risk doing it to you.”

She storms over to him and grabs his face, “I did this!  For you!  If this demon bitch dies, then you are free!”

He grabs her hands, “Why do you always insist on throwing yourself into danger?  Don’t you have enough to deal with?  Enough things trying to kill you?”

“At least I’m fighting for what I believe in!”  He drops her hands and backs away.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”  He picks up his pants and puts them on.  “Cullen.”

“I think you meant it exactly how it came out.  You go gallivanting all over Thedas trying to save everyone but yourself.  While I sit here and worry.  And order your troops around.  Safe behind stone walls.  Well, I’ll tell you something Shea.  I will not watch you die again!  If anything is going to break me, it’ll be that.”

He grabs his shirt off the ground and she yanks it from his hands.  “Don’t you fucking walk out on me.  I put myself in danger, for you.  Fuck the rest of Thedas!  You are the reason I fight.”

“Don’t give me that.  You threw yourself into danger before we even met.”

“I was in no danger in Kirkwall.  The conclave wasn’t supposed to blow up.”

“I’m talking about after that.  Running at the Breach with no regard for your own safety.”

“Need I remind you that it was either help or be executed?  Even after helping, that option still wasn’t off the table.”

He sighs.  “Please give me my shirt.”

“Why?  So you can run away?  Storm off without even considering that I’m only doing this because I want to…”

“What?  Fix me?  There’s nothing to fix.  The demon and lack of lyrium make the nightmares worse, but they will always be there.  Always.”

“You don’t know that.  The lyrium withdrawals will fade in time.  And if she wasn’t torturing you every single night, then maybe your mind would be able to heal.  Yes, the memories would be there, but they’d fade.”

“As if you’re the expert on such matters.”

She throws his shirt at him.  “How fucking dare you?!  You know that I…”  She growls and bites her tongue.  “Just go, if you’re going.  But know that I’m not giving up on this.”  She walks past him and stands with her back to him.  She is fighting to control her mind.  His words stirred up the pain that now lived there.  She crosses her arms over her chest and closes her eyes.  She focuses on her breathing, trying to calm her mind and her emotions.  Silence has fallen over the room.

He can’t decide if he should stay or go.  He is so mad at her, her carelessness, her stupidity.  Nothing that comes to his mind is pleasant and would only make matters worse.  If he stays, he knows he’ll end up saying something else he’ll regret later.  His blood is boiling and his mind is reeling from his nightmare and the thought of her in danger.  He spins to face her.  His anger only flares more looking at her.  He puts his shirt on and scoops his boots off the floor.

The only indication she has that he has left is the slamming of her door.  Her rage swells.  She just can’t understand why he is so angry.  She was in no danger.  Maybe if she had been there alone, but she wasn’t.  She was with someone well versed in the Fade and Dreaming.  She grabs the water pitcher and flings it against the wall.  Glass and water crashing down as it makes contact.  She wants to storm after him.  Demand that he explain to her the real reason for his anger.  Did he want to live with a demon in his mind forever when something can be done about it?  She is too angry to sleep and it is the middle of the night.  She doesn’t know what to do with yourself, how to calm herself down.

A thought enters her mind.  _Is this his way of pushing me away?  Would he really just have sex with me and then end it?_ Her chest tightens.  Sorrow replaces her anger.  She flops down on her bed, stirring the scent of him and sex in the air.  She suddenly feels used, which cause two sides of herself to war.  One side tells her that she knows him.  He would never do that to her.  He isn’t the type to do something like that, especially after everything she’s told him.  The other side tells her he is no better than her brothers, no better than the rest of her family, and no better than the Inquisition.  Using her until they had what they wanted and then casting her aside.

She tries to shake those ideas loose.  She is not going to let The Nightmare’s words poison her against him.  Maybe they just need space.  Maybe she needs to focus on getting her mind right, before trying anything else with him.  She lays on her side and curls her legs to her chest.  She squeezes her eyes closed and prays.  ” _Please let him still love me.  Please don’t let me crumble under the pressure of everything that’s happened.  Please help me be strong.  Please keep him strong.  Please… just please.”_

Cullen is leaning against her door in the throne room.  The large quiet hall is dead silent.  His ears seem hyper aware of the sounds around him. He can hear the winds blowing gently against the windows, the footsteps of a guard on patrol, the crackling of wood in the braziers.  He doesn’t know why he expected her to act any differently than she always has.  Her main focus since the day they met has been helping people.  Why wouldn’t she put her life on the line for someone she cares deeply for?  Maybe he is being too harsh on her.  He still doesn’t trust that he would be kind if he goes back up there.  He pushes away from the door and puts on his boots.  He sighs and goes to sleep in his own bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to have a hard time finding song titles that fit the chapters lol
> 
> Has anyone noticed that the chapter titles are all songs titles?
> 
> UPDATED July 23, 2018


	44. Animals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift

“I’ve decided to head to The Dales earlier than expected.”  Her advisors all look up from their reports at her sudden declaration.  “The world isn’t going to fix itself, so there’s no point sitting around while rifts continue to plague Orlais and Ferelden.”

Josephine nods, “We also need more influence in Orlais to get an invitation to the talks between Empress Celene and Duke Gaspard.”

Shea nods, “I have an idea there that I will run by you before we leave.”

Cullen is staring at her.  This is sudden and he knows she isn’t over what happened at Adamant, but he isn’t going to say that.  To everyone else, she looks fine.  She has yet to look at him.  Even when he’s spoken about some report or completed mission.  He woke up, cold and alone, with a laundry list of regrets.  He had turned his fear into anger and turned it against her.  He isn’t even that mad.  Worried, scared, and maybe even a little grateful.  Must mostly he is afraid of losing her.  This wedge between them now is his doing.  He wants to talk to her, wants her to see how ashamed he is at his behavior.  “When do you plan on leaving?”

She looks down at the war table and points to a spot on the map.  “If we leave at midday, we’ll be able to make camp at the base of the Frostbacks by night fall.  Now, if there’s nothing else, I need to speak with Josephine and prepare for the trip.” 

He wants to shake her.  _She’s doing this on purpose.  This meeting and travel arrangements will fill the rest of her day before leaving.  She’s going to have to put her armor on sometime.  I guess I know where I’m going to wait for her._  The meeting ends and Shea walks out with Josephine.  Cullen walks past them as he leaves the war room.  She still won’t look at him.  When the door to Josephine’s office closes, he goes down the stairs to the secret library door.  If no one sees him, then he is free to sit and wait until she goes up to get her armor.

***

Shea has decided to change things up for this trip.  Instead of her usual party, she’s bringing Solas, Cole, and Vivienne.  Solas because she can talk to him more about the Fade.  She might be pissed at him, but she is still determined to slaughter his demon.  Cole because he wanted to help her get over her mental problems.  And Vivienne because she feels rusty on The Game and she is an expert.

She has set up a plan with Josephine to reach out to her brother on her behalf.  She can’t bring herself to do it.  It makes her sick to think about it, but he has influence in Orlais.  If he vouched for the Inquisition, then they might be able to get an invitation sooner.  The sooner they got it, the easier it would be for Josephine to get things prepared.

She gets the horses ready and helps show Vivienne a few things that would help her ride better.  Which the witch actually thanks her for.  She has one last thing to do before she is ready to leave.  She isn’t stupid.  She knows him better than anyone and knows he’ll be waiting for her.  She slowly walks up her stairs and such enough, there he is.  Standing on her balcony overlooking the mountains.

“Cullen.”  He turns at her voice.  His heart in his throat.  “I need to get ready to leave.”  He rushes to close the distance between them and she takes a step back.  “Do you have any idea how I felt after you left me last night?”

“I wanted to…”

“I’m not done.  I’ve been thinking about how to word this all day and you are just going to stand there and listen.  No questions.  No interruptions.  Got it?”

“Yes, but I…”

She growls, “Cullen.  I don’t give a shit what you want right now.  Either agree or let me get my armor and go.”  He nods and leans against her desk.  “I thought long and hard about our… argument last night.  And you’re right.  I was being reckless.”  He opens his mouth and then closes it remembering what she said.  “I didn’t have enough information to justify just popping into the Fade.  That’s doesn’t make what I did wrong, just a bit careless.  If the events since getting this mark have taught me anything, it’s that I need to be prepared for anything and I wasn’t.  I let my need to help you blind me to the dangers.  That said.  I don’t plan to stop trying.  On the contrary, I’ve asked Solas to teach me everything I need to know before I enter again.  I care for you more than anything.  More than the Inquisition.  More than closing rifts.  More than stopping Corypheus.  I know that that is foolish of me.  What do two people matter when the world hangs in the balance?  But what use is there saving the world if I can’t even save the person who matters most to me?  I...  When you left last night… after we… I felt… feel used.  That wasn’t your intention I’m sure, but that doesn’t stop it from being true.  I am so angry at you for making me feel that way, knowing everything you do.  I’m not sure when I’ll forgive you for it, but I don’t think it’s today.  That’s why I’m leaving.  Looking at you… hurts.  And it shouldn’t.”

He pushes off the desk and moves towards her.  “Are you done?”

“I… yes.  I’m done.”  She turns to gather her armor.  He blocks her.  “Please let me…”    

“No.  It’s your turn to listen.”  He grabs her face.  “I love you.  I’m disgusted with myself for last night and that I caused you pain.  I’m scared, Shea.  Scared of the demon, of my mind breaking, of my nightmares, of this addiction killing me.  But mostly, I’m scared of losing you.  If anything were to happen to you while you try to fix _my_ problems, then I’d never forgive myself.  It would end me.  You shouldn’t have to fight my battles for me.  You have enough to worry about.  Even if you can’t forgive me for hurting you, know that I am deeply sorry.  I let fear turn me against you and that will never happen again.  I just… I can’t let you leave without you knowing how truly sorry I am.  I will try to be better.  I will try to be stronger.  For you.”

She pulls his hands away.  “You should want to be stronger for yourself.  This is your life and I shouldn’t be the only one fighting for it.”  She moves around him and starts taking her armor off the stand.

“You’re right.”  He looks away from her and rubs his neck.  “How does this potion work?”

She pauses and turns to face him, “Excuse me?”

“How does this potion you took last night work?”

“Why?”

He sighs, “If I’m going to fight my own battles, then I need to know how.”

“You want to enter the Fade?”

“No, but I only know and trust one expert.  She already knows everything about this part of my past.  Apparently, the only way to reach her is in the Fade, so that’s where I need to go.”

Shea sets the piece of metal in her hand down and walks towards him.  “Is that really wise?”

“Probably not.  But like you said, ‘We have no way of knowing if or when this demon wins.’  She was so close last night.  Closer than she’s been in a very long time.”

“I don’t like it, but fine.  At least let me set up the date with Danielle so she is waiting for you.  As you said last night, that fucking demon is always around you in the fade.  So if you just pop in unannounced and without back up, then you are fucked.”

“Fair enough.”

She sighs and retrieves the box of potions.  She grabs a single flask and holds it out to him.  He tries to take it from her and she pulls it back.  “Why were you really mad last night?”

“I told you.  I let my fear turn me against you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.  I barely slept last night thinking about it.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Shea… I…”

“Answer me.”

“I was afraid I was going to say something else I’d regret.”

“Like?”

“Shea.  Please.  I didn’t have anything planned, but I saw that the last thing I said hurt you and though I was mad, I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than I already had.”

She holds the flask out to him.  He grabs it but she doesn’t let go.  “There are some ground rules I have for this.”

“Shea…”

“Hush.  This is dangerous stuff, especially for you, and I won’t have you going in blind or helpless.  Do not drink this, until you have received a letter from Danielle or myself telling you when.  You will drink this in this room and not your stupid tower bedroom.  I will be joining you in this fight and I will have no lip from you.  I will set up the plan and let you know.  Until then, the cork stays in this bottle.  Got it?”

“Yes, my lady.”

She lets him take the flask from her and goes to her desk.  She scribbles down the instructions and hands them to him.  “This is how you’re supposed to take it.  Be sure to follow them to the letter.  And I swear to Andraste if you get yourself killed, I will physically walk into the Fade and pull you back into this world myself just so I can kill you again.”

He smirks, “I love you, too.”

“Now, will you let me get ready to leave?”

He puts the potion and instructions in his pocket and quickly closes the distance between them.  She tries to back away but he grabs her.  He presses his lips against hers.  She resists for a moment then melts into him.  She mumbles against his mouth, “I hate you.”  He smirks and continues kissing her.  Her arms circle around his neck and pulls him closer to her.  Her lips are sore from the intensity of his kiss.  They part slightly and he glances out the window.  It isn’t quite midday yet.  They still have a couple of hours.  He smirks down at her. “What?”

“You don’t have to leave just yet.”

“And?”

He takes a breath and then remembers what she said about feeling used.  “Actually… that might be a bad idea.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to make you feel used again.”

“What would… oh.”  She blushes and looks away from him.  “I mean… I don’t think…”  She looks back into his eyes.  His honey colored eyes send ripples of desire through her.  “Oh fuck it!”  She crushes her mouth against his.  Her hands grip his cloak and force it from his shoulders.  His hands go to the buttons on her uniform.

He groans, “Why do you have so many damn buttons?”

“Says the man in full armor.”  Their lips meet again.  Their tongues slide together.  She claws at the straps on his armor while he struggles with her buttons.  She manages to get several pieces off.  He gets the top few undone and growls.  She smiles against his lips, “Having trouble?”

He grabs either side of the opening he’s crated and yanks.  Buttons go flying, but her shirt is open.  She gasps looking down at herself.  He smirks, “Not anymore.”  Then she pounces him knocking him to floor.  Their lips locked together as he finishes removing her shirt.  She claws at more straps and pulls the fabric that covers his armor off, throwing it to the side.  He helps her fight to remove his armor more quickly.  Once all the metal is removed, she presses his arms to the floor and kiss him hard on the neck.  He groans and shifts beneath her.  He fights her grip and before she even knows how it happened, she’s on her back and he’s is pinning her to the floor.  She growls.  He frees her arms as a hint of something he can’t name flashes in her eyes.

He yanks off his gloves and quickly unlaces his shirt.  She sits up and untucks the shirt.  She forces it over his head, accidently scratching his face in the process.  He grunts but ignores the pain.  She sees with undershirt and groans.  She grabs the neckline and pulls.  She rips it down the front and throws the torn tank top away.  A deep low rumble rises from him.  He pushes her down again and nibbles at her neck.  She grabs his waistband and starts unlacing.  He does the same to her.

His mouth crashes in to hers.  She mumbles, “Boots.”  He stands and helps her up at the same time.  He starts pulling his off as she tries to unlace and kick hers off as fast as she can.  As soon as they go flying, he’s on her again. They battle to get each other’s pants off.  He gets hers unlaced first and pulls them off her.  Shea takes the more efficient approach once she’s done unlacing by pushing him away and pulling his pants and smallclothes down at the same time.  If it was a race to get someone naked first, she would have just won.  He kicks his clothes away and pulls down her smallclothes.  Not wanting to wait for him, she yanks off her breast band.

She jumps on him and he falls backwards to the floor.  She grabs him in one of her hands and works his shaft while she bites his neck.  He groans loudly.  She sucks on his neck.  She wants to leave a mark.  His fingers dig into her back and rake down it.  She sharply inhales and releases her hold on his neck.  Taking advantage of the opportunity he’s created, he flips her onto her back.  He presses his full weight on top of her as he returns the favor.  He knows how she feels about visible marks, so instead he bites her just above her clavicle.  Her fingers claw down his arms and she moans.  He pushes himself on all fours and smirks down at her.  He pushes her legs up and apart.  He drives his throbbing member deep inside her.  She cries out, her nails dig into his arms.  His thrusts are hard and fast.  Her thighs slapping against him.  Her moans and cries coming one after the other.  He doesn’t let up.  He drills into her.

“Cullen!  Oh Maker!”  He wraps his arms around her waists pulls her up him.  He sits up on his knees.  She wraps her arms around his neck.  He holds onto her ass and bounces her on him.  She throws her head back, her cry stuck in her throat.  Her body spasms.  Then the cry breaks free.  His pounding continues.  Sweat pours from them.  He lays her back down the floor.  Never stopping.  His thrusting relentless.  Wave after wave rushes through her.  She feels like she can’t breathe.  His hunger for her is savage, primal.  He pounds her into the stone.  He’s never been this aggressive with a woman.  He has a flicker of concern that maybe he’s hurting her.  He backs of a little, “No!  Don’t stop!”

He not only resumes, but intensifies.  Skin slaps against skin.  He has lost count of how many times he’s finished her. He feels close himself.  She hears him grunt and groan.  His grip tightens.  She can’t risk it happening again.  She shoves with all her strength against him.  He pulls out, confused.  She sits up and pushes him backwards.  As his back smacks against the stone, he feels her mouth on him.  He has lost his words.  She’s just as aggressive as he was.  Guttural noises rise in him, but nothing more.  He grabs the back of her head as she bobs it up and down.  It doesn’t take him long.  He groans loudly and unloads in her mouth.  She smirks at him as she wipes the corner of her mouth.  She falls onto the floor next to him.  They lay there, dripping in sweat and panting.

As his breathing returns to normal, he hears her start laughing.  He rolls himself to face her, propping himself up on his elbow.  “What?”  She looks over at him and her laughter grows louder.  “What?”

She struggles to speak through her laughter, “I’m… just… thinking… about having to… explain to… Josephine… that I need a… new Inquisitor shirt” She holds her sides.

He smirks.  “Are you alright?”  She nods and puts up the hand signal for ok.  He watches her fit of laughter subside.  When she finally calms, he brushes the hair from her face.  She looks over at him.  A look of pure ecstasy in the oceans of her eyes.  “Still mad at me?”

She shakes her head.  “No.”

“Good.”

“Though, if I’m being honest with myself, I was never mad at you.  Hurt, but not mad.”

“Oh.”

She rolls over to face him.  “You have to understand.  The way you said… what you said… made it seem like my pain was somehow less because it was new.  I know that’s not what you meant now, but in the moment…”

He traces his finger along the scar on her face.  “I know.  I really didn’t mean that.  Seeing what one stupid snide comment did, I chose to go instead of risk saying something else.  It was not my intention…”

“I know.  I don’t think you used me.  Well… not last night anyway.”  She winks at him, “That was just my brain’s fucked up way of handling it.”

“We’re a pair, aren’t we?”

“Two crazy people who are crazy about each other?”

“That pretty much sums it up.”  Shea rolls back onto her back.  He copies her.  They stare at her ceiling.  “You want to know something?”

“Always.”

“I’ve never done anything like that before.” 

She smiles, “Really?”

“Really.  My relationships weren’t serious enough to provide the opportunity for makeup sex.”

She laughs.  “I think that may have been a little more than makeup sex.  But I’m not the expert on that.”

He chuckles, “I guess we’ll need a second opinion.  I’ve never been that… aggressive… primal… I’m not even sure how to describe it.” A thought suddenly occurs to him and he pulls himself off of the floor.  He bolts down the stairs and locks the door. 

She laughs, “A little late for that.”

He returns to his spot on the floor.  “Yeah well.  Better late than never.”  He shorts “Can you imagine if someone had walked in on that?”

She throws her arm over her face, “I’d rather not.  I get teased enough as it is.”

“Teased?”

“Yeah.  Dorian, Bull, and Varric all like to make fun of me and my infatuation with you.  They say I stare at you all doe eyed anytime you enter a room.”

“Do you?”

“I wouldn’t call it doe eyed, but yes.  I stare.  As do you.”

He smiles, “I always have.”

“I know.”  She moves her arm and looks over at him.  “Are we… good?”

“As in the state of our relationship?  Yes, I think we are.  Were you worried?”

She sighs, “A little.”

He crawls over to her.  He kisses her, long and deep.  “You never need to worry about us.  Even if we have a fight.  No matter how serious.  You can’t change how I feel about you.”

She places her hand on his face and runs her thumb down his scar.  She chuckles, “When did this become a thing?  I don’t remember how it started.”

“The scar thing?”

“Yeah.  I mean I know when you started, but I can’t recall when I did.”

“It’s just something you do.  A lot.  I don’t remember the first time either.”

“You never told me how you got it.”

“Really?  I’ve told you everything else.”

“I believe sometime long ago you said you’d tell me, but you never did.”

He chuckles softly, “I don’t think it was _that_ long ago.”

“It feels like it.”

He runs his fingers through her matted hair.  “Tell you what.  There’s still a little time before you have to go.  And unless you want to smell like me, then I would suggest a bath.”

“We’d have to get someone to come up here and…”

He presses his finger against her lip.  “Let’s just say I called in a favor while I was waiting for you.”

He stands and reaches down to help her.  He pulls her up and laces his fingers in hers as he leads her to her bathroom.

“Why does it look different?”

He smirks, “Watch.”  He runs a finger along the edge.  Two runes appear at his touch.  “I asked Dagna for a favor.  She said it was an unusual request and so she had to do it.  She likes challenging new things.  Don’t ask me how she did it. But this rune,” He places his finger on it.  Water rushes into the tub from runes etched into the sides.  “Fills it.  Touch it again and it drains it.  This one,” He places his finger on it.  More runes appear on the tub walls.  “Heats it.  Once the runes fade, you can test the water.  If it’s not hot enough, just do it again until it gets to your desired temperature.”

She smiles at him.  “How on earth did you come up with this?”

“Technically, she figure this out.  I just asked if she thought it could be done.  I just figured that it would be more convenient and you wouldn’t have to get a mage to come all the way up here just to run your bath water.”

She leans up to him and kisses him.  “It’s prefect.  Thank you.”  They settle into the bath together and begin cleaning each other.  He hisses as soap gets in the scrapes her fingernails caused.  She touches his arm and feels the gouges she has made.  “Oh no.  Your poor arms.”

He shrugs, “They’ll heal. They don’t hurt as bad as my neck.”  He lifts his chin and turns it to the side.  She covers her mouth trying to stifle her laugh.  There is absolutely no way he is going to be able to hide the deep purple bruise complete with red teeth marks just to the side of his adam’s apple or the matching one higher up, closer to his jaw.

“I didn’t know I got you twice.”

“I got you pretty good too.

“Where?”

He brushes his fingers softly against the angry looking hickey along her collarbone.  “I had enough thought to at least bite you where no one would see it.”

She smirks, “There’s only one person I’m travelling with who will know regardless.  In fact, I won’t be able to hide any of this.  Poor kid.”

He nods, “Cole has that effect.”

“Has he ever tried to help you?”

“No.  He came to me once to try to help, but said he was having a hard time, because he wanted to help but talking about it didn’t help.”

“He usually tells me I help you.  That he doesn’t need to help you because I do.”  

“You do, indeed.”  They wash each other and Shea waits for him to bring up his scar.  When he doesn’t, she runs her wet finger down it.  “Oh!  Right.  You wanted to know how I go this scar.  After our battle inside the circle, with most of its mages dead, Meredith finally went nuts, due to the red lyrium in her sword.  As most people know, I stepped in to stop her from killing Hawke.  What was the point?  He was the Champion, he had sided with us.  We would need him to help fix things.  I thought she was doing to arrest him, question him.  Make absolutely sure he wasn’t in on Anders’ plan to blow up the Chantry.  When she called for his head, I stepped in.  She turned on all of us.  I put myself between her and Hawke’s group.  That lyrium made her fast.  Blindingly fast.  I didn’t even see her start to swing the sword.  If Hawke hadn’t pulled me back, she would have killed me.  Instead, she just sliced though my lip.” He grabs his lip and pulls it up.  The scar goes all the way through.  “The pain was blinding.  The nerves were severed and it bled profusely.  But the battle had started in earnest, so I just had to fight through the pain.  Once the battle was over, I was starting to lose feeling in this whole are,” He runs his hand from under his eye, across his cheek, and stopping in the center of his lips.  “Despite that, I was determined to get the city back under control.  I felt like I had to hold my face together just to issue orders.  I turned to check on Hawke and those with him.  I’m sure it looked horrible.  Blood pouring out of my face and coating my armor.  They didn’t hesitate to help me.  The problem was that Bethany and Merrill weren’t well versed in healing magic.  Merrill didn’t know any at all and she felt really bad about that.  Which surprised me since she’s a blood mage.  Hawke doesn’t know I know that.  Bethany picked up a few basics and we just had to hope it was enough.  I advised that she focus on healing the nerves and blood vessels.  If those died completely, there would be no hope.  This was the result.” She runs her finger down his scar.  She really focuses on the feel of it.  She presses on it and moves her finger in circles.  “What are you feeling for?”

“Just the workmanship mostly.  She actually did a really good job.  I can feel that some of the skin and tissue is missing, but other than that it feels fine.”

“Yep.  I didn’t lose any feeling at all.  I thank the Maker every day for that.”

They finish their bath and dry off.  She goes right for her armor and starts putting it on.  She gets her underwear and red leather on, then hears him laugh and turns around.  “What?”

He has laid out his armor on her bed.  “Have you seen my smallclothes?  I also can’t find my other sock or one of my bracers.”

She laughs and starts looking around.  “They’d be in your pants.  I recall pulling them off together.”

“They aren’t.”

“Weird.”  She bends down and pulls his bracer from under the couch, “Ah ha!  I found it!”

He looks into his boot, “Ok.   Found the other sock.”  They both put the room back in order as they look for his smallclothes.  He’s on all fours, ass in the air, looking under the bed when he hears her bust out laughing.  “What?”

“I’m sorry.  I really just wanted to see how long it would take you to give up.”  She reaches into her pocket and holds them up.

“You’re cruel, cruel woman.  Where did you find them?”

“In your pants.  Exactly where I said they’d be.”  He holds out his hand and she puts them behind her back.  “Do I get a reward for finding them?”  He backs her into her desk and kisses her.  He wraps his arms around her and snatches them from her distracted grasp.  “Hey!  That’s cheating!”

“Cheating?  That was your reward.”

“You can do better than that.”

He smirks.  “Fine.”  He tosses them with the rest of his clothes.  He picks her up and tosses her onto the couch.  He lays on top of her.  She squirms beneath him.  He presses his lips hard against hers.  They lips and tongues move together franticly.  He unlaces her pants and then bell rings. 

She groans.  “Duty calls.” He stands and helps her up.

“Need I remind you that you’ve done this to yourself?”

“Shush.”  She laces her pants and puts on her armor.  He gets dresses as well.  She slings her axe onto her back and turns to face him.  He’s sitting on her bed and smiling.  “What are you so happy about?”

“Just admiring your beauty.”

She blushes.  Even after all this time, he still has that effect on her.  “You’re not too bad yourself.”  He goes over to her and pulls her into a hug.  She presses the side of her face into the metal on his chest and wraps her arms around his waist.  “I look forward to the day when I never have to leave again.”

“Me too.  Until then…”  He leans down to kiss her.  “Stay safe.”

She smirks, “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading!
> 
> UPDATED July 23, 2018


	45. Love is a Battlefield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift

“My dear, I don’t know why you think I can teach you The Great Game.  It’s not something one learns overnight.”

Shea feels like pulling her hair out.  “For the millionth time, Vivienne, I already know how to play The Game, I’m just rusty.”

“I find that hard to believe, my dear.  You are a Marcher after all.  I bet you don’t even know how to dance.”

She stops walking.  “Solas come here.” Solas approaches her.  From their _many_ discussions about the Fade, she remembers that he said he has seen memoires of great balls in various courts.  They are in the middle of the woods next to vine covered ruin in the Emerald Graves. 

Vivienne scoffs, “You can’t be serious.  The apostate and the Marcher? There isn’t even music.”

Solas narrows his eyes at her, “One doesn’t need music is they have a keen ear and an imagination, Enchanter.”

Shea removes the axe from her back and leans it on the wall of the ruin.  “I’ll follow your lead.”  Solas leans his staff next to her axe.  He steps into the center of the area.  He bows to her and offers her his hand.  It’s a little awkward in armor, but she glides forward, she curtsies low and accepts his hand.  She straightens and makes eye contact with him.  She doesn’t know which dance he’ll chose as they all start the same, but as soon as he starts moving his arm to parade her forward, she follows him.  The dance is simple at first, slow, a greeting.  The rustling of the leaves and the creaking branches providing them their soundtrack.  She may have forgotten the names of the dances, but her body remembers the steps.  They move gracefully through the different forms.  He’s selected a dance that tells a story.

The young lovers meet eyes from across a crowed ballroom.  They approach and greet each other like old friends.  Their affair has been a secret for months.  He is proud to call her his and she desires him more than the riches he possesses.  Lost in their moment together, they forget the eyes watching them.  They move together, mirroring the moments of the other.  Neither one leading nor following.  Unable to contain their joy of being together in front of everyone, they presses together.  Spinning together and around each other.  Nobles look on in disbelief as this common girl steals the attention of this noble man.  Yet no one can deny their passion and the way they look together.  The dance ends with the young nobleman dipping his love low, almost to floor with his head bowed to her chest.

Solas graceful raises Shea from her dipping position.  He bows to her and she to him.  They backway from each other before turning to face Vivienne.  Shea is fighting to control her mind.  It’s not the same dance, but halfway through she remembered learning it with him.  She is determined to rub it her pretentious face, so she manages to keep eye contact with Solas to remind her that this wasn’t her brother.  Cole appears next to her.  He doesn’t talk or touch her, but knowing that at least someone knows how she’s feeling makes her feel better.  She’s not even winded.  “Well?”

“Color me surprised.  That dance is very challenging.  Hardly ever done mind you, it went out of fashion years ago. But it is a classic and always finds its way back into the courts.  Where did you learn that, apostate?”

“The Fade.”

“And you, my dear?”

She’s going to have to lie a little, because the truth makes her want to vomit.  “I had an Orlesian dancing instructor.”

“Really?  And why would that be?”

“My father had business in Orlais.  And my mother is Orlesian.”

“Very well, my dear.  I have obviously misjudged your experience.  I will help you.”

“Great.”  She grabs her axe from its spot and slings it on her back.  “Let’s get moving.  Cole up front with me.”

He walks beside her as they head towards some mission they are on.  “You are better at hiding.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Yes.”

She chuckles.  “Please explain.”

“Well, things remind you of the bad and they hurt you.  But talking adds to the hurt.  Hiding hides the hurt but hurts the helping.”

“I see.”

“You should do it.”  She almost stops walking.  She isn’t sure which fleeting thought he caught, but one of them brings dread with it.  “Both.”

She sighs.  “I understand why writing to Cullen when we settle in for the night, but why him?”

“Saying the reason won’t help.”

“Please.”

“Tainted, troubled, tearing.  Writing them down makes them real.  You don’t want to, but you wonder if he remembers, regrets, repents.  You won’t know unless you ask him.”

She shakes her head, “I won’t do that.  I can’t.”

“How do you know?”  She crosses her arms over her chest.  “You asked me to help.”

“I know.  Maybe I’m not ready for help.”  She continues walking up the path.

***

_Cullen,_

_We’re coming back early.  After helping Solas’ friend, he needed some time to himself.  There’s a lot going on in the Exalted Plains and we need a full team to do it._

_I got a report from Josephine that said she received our invitation to The Winter Palace and that accommodations have already been arranged.  The inner circle will be leaving a few days after we get back.  The masquerade is a few weeks off, but it’ll go by fairly quickly according to her.  With that in mind…_

_I spoke with Danielle.  She and Alistair will meet us at the next full moon.  Which I believe is the night I get back.  I will try to hurry to get back so that we have time to prepare before night falls.  If all goes well, you’ll have a few days to recover before the trip.  She has found a way to arm us in the fade and is working on a plan.  I know you’re scared.  But we feel confident this will work._

_I miss you and I’ll see you soon._

_Shea_

 

This is probably the hundredth time he’s read her letter.  It has been so long since he’s received an actually letter and not just a note at the bottom of her reports.  Scouts have already reported seeing her approaching Skyhold.  It will be close but she’ll get there by nightfall.  This is it.  The moment of truth.  There are only twos outcomes he can think of.  He will either be dead or free.  If he gets possessed, he hopes someone would kill him.  If the demon dies, then he’s free.  Then more options present themselves.  Someone else could get possessed.  Shea would be the second mostly target besides himself.  Or they fail to kill her and no one got possessed.  Then nothing would have changed, expect maybe angering the demon more.

He has taken the day off, much to the surprise to everyone.  He wants to spend the day gathering his thoughts and writing letters in case something happens to him.  The only people he can think of who might need an explanation are his siblings and Shea.  He has written them already and they are hidden in a book in his office.  If he survives the night, he will burn the letters so no one will find them.

He looks up at his armor on the rack in the corner of her room.  If he dies, would she leave it there?  A reminder of her loss?  Would she react as he had when he thought she was dead?  Would she contemplate suicide like he did?  He rubs his temples trying to clear the thoughts from his mind.  He hasn’t been sleeping very well.  He is worried that the demon will see their plan as he slept.  He hasn’t been able to eat all day.  He’s tried but he’s on edge.

He goes to her balcony and watches people mill around Skyhold.  The day has flown by and he hasn’t even noticed.  The light in the sky is almost completely gone.  He focuses his attention on the courtyard far below.  His anxiety is slowly building, causing pressure behind his eyes.  He folds his arms over his chest and closes his eyes.  His brows knit together as he tries to calm himself.  The cold wind blows through his thin shirt and chills him.  He welcomes the sensation.  The cold mountain air helping him to clear his mind.

Warm arms wrap around his waist.  Her lips press into his back.  “How are you feeling?”

He relaxes at her touch.  “Anxious.  My head has been bothering me all day.” She slides her warm hands up his back and begins massaging his shoulders.  His head falls forward.

“You’re tense.  Sit down.”  She pulls him towards the bed and makes him sit.  “Take your shirt off and lay on your stomach.”

He smirks weakly, “What are you going to do to me?”

“You need to relax.  If you’re all tense, you won’t sleep well.  Now, do it.”

He takes of his shirt and rests his face on a pillow.  She removes her armor and puts it on the stand.  She grabs one of his shirts from the wardrobe and puts it on.  She straddles him and sits on his ass.  He laughs.  She ignores him and squeezes his shoulders.  She presses her thumbs into the stiff muscles and moves them up towards his neck.  “Oh Maker.”

She pauses, “Am I pressing too hard?”  He shakes his head.  “Ok, this is pointless if I hurt you.”  She deeply massages his stiff and tired muscles.  Shoulders, arms, neck, and back.  He feels so relaxed that he could fall asleep right there and then.  That’s the moment her gets off him.  “Better?”

“Uh huh.”

She laughs.  “Come on.  You can’t go to sleep yet.  We’ve got things to do.”

He rolls onto his side and looks up at her.  “How’s Solas?”

“He said he’d meet us here.  He must not be back yet.  And it seems like you’re stalling.”

He sighs. “Maybe a little.”

“Why?”

He reaches for her hand.  She sits down next to him and laces her fingers with his.  “My mind has been running in circles all day.  Thinking of everything that could go wrong.  I’m afraid.”

“Of?”

“Losing you.  Again.  Then what if my struggles with this demon are the only thing keeping the lyrium madness away?”  He looks away from her and out the window.  “What if… what if I can’t do this?  What if…I’m… not strong enough the next time she comes for me if we fail tonight?  What if… this is… how I am meant to…be?”

“It’ll be ok.”

“You can’t know that.  So, many things could go wrong.  I could get possessed.  It’s highly likely.  I’ll be weaker against her in the fade.”

“That won’t…”

“But if it does?  What then?  What if to get to me she goes for you again?  What if she succeeds in possessing you?  Or Danielle?  Or Alistair?  What if I’m not strong enough to do this?”

She wipes a tear from his cheek.  “Cullen, look at me.”  He his eyes meet hers.  “You _are_ strong.  You have fought and clawed your way out of the darkness.  There is hope.  But you can’t give up.  Forget about me of a second.  This is your life.  Your mind.  Your burdens.  I can’t carry them for you.  If you want to wait until you’re past your addiction, fine.  But I’m here for you.  You can do this.  You _are_ doing this.  You might not feel strong or confident, but you’ve lasted this long.  Your mind is stronger than you give it credit for.”

“You have a lot of faith in me.”

“You’ve never given me a reason not to.  I just wish you believed in yourself more. Now, we can wait, but I’ll need to go tell Danielle.”

He sits up, “No.  We should do this now.”

“OK.  That is your choice.  But once, we’ve committed to this, there’s no going back.”

“I understand.  I’m sure.”

She sighs.  “Ok.  To quickly walk you through this first part.  This potion is nasty.  I mean _really_ nasty.  Once it’s down, you can’t eat or drink anything.  Drink it a sip at a time.  Once your stomach calms, continue until it’s gone.  No chugging.  Just follow my pacing and you should be fine.  Try to let me fall asleep first, that way you won’t wake up in the Fade alone.”  She pulls two potions from the box under her bed and hands him one.   “Any other questions?”  He shakes his head.  She leans forward and kisses him.  She runs her finger down his scar and pulls away.

“What was that for?”

“I… nothing.  Can’t I kiss you without needing a reason?”

He sets the bottle down and grabs her face.  He kisses her long and hard before letting her go.  “I love you.”

“Are you saying goodbye to me right now?”

“I… no… but just in case…”

“Stop it!  We’re going to kill this bitch and everything will be fine.”

She leans against the headboard and pulls the cork from the bottle.  He picks up his potion and does the same.  She takes a sip and covers her mouth.  He takes a sips and nearly spits it out.  She covers his mouth and he swallows.

“Maker that’s terrible!”

“I’m aware.”

They eventually finish taking their potions.  He throws the empty flask across the room and it shatters against the wall.  “She couldn’t have made a potion that didn’t taste like we were licking a demon’s asshole?  And Alistair takes this stuff every night?”

“Yep.  And apparently complains every night.”

“So, now what?”

“We go to sleep.”

She lays down on her side and holds her arms open to him.  He curls himself around her.  He kisses her shoulder.  She closes her eyes and holds him close.  As she drifts off, his faint whisper makes her smile, “I love you.  I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

***

She is back where she first entered the fade.  She holds up her glowing hand to quiet the spirits.  “Could you all give us some space?”  They disperse and she looks around.  Danielle is seated on a rock.  Alistair is standing right behind her, running his fingers through her hair. She pats his arm to get his attention and stands.

“You made it.  How are you feeling?”

“Fine.  I’m worried about how he’s going to react being back here.”

Alistair steps forward, his golden armor shining as it catches the light.  He extends his hand and Shea shakes it.  “There’s always trouble with you around it seems.”  Danielle elbows him and he feigns injury.  “I’m wounded!  Go on without me!”

“Behave yourself.  And try to remember what it was like when you first walked the Fade.”

“How can I forget?  My sister was actually nice to me.”

Shea looks around.  “Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

Danielle summons some magic in her palm and sends the pink ball of light skyward.  The pink owl comes flying toward her and lands on Alistair’s head.  “Hey!”  

The owl rolls its large eyes. “You called?”

“Could you fly up to that window to see if a human man is up there?”

“I can, but I don’t need to.”  The owl points with its wing behind them.  Cullen, clad in his usual armor, comes stumbling over to then.  Shea goes to him and supports him as he walks forward.

“What happened?”

He shake his head, “A little warning that I could wake up in a bush surrounded by little wispy things trying to touch my hair would have been nice.”  She laughs.

“But you’re ok?”

“I’m in the Fade, so not really, but I suppose I am.”

Alistair clears his throat.  Cullen looks over at the pair.  He moves from Shea and kneels before them, bowing his head.  Danielle gently kicks him, “Oh, stand up.”  

He looks up at her and smirks his signature grin, “Isn’t it customary to kneel before royalty?”  He stands and Shea takes his hand.  “You let your hair grow out.”

“This one likes to play with it.  More specifically, he likes to braid it.  I don’t care either way.”

“I’m right here!”  Danielle pats his cheek.

“I know, dear.  I just like watching you blush.”

Shea can’t deny that they are the perfect couple.  It actually makes her feel a little better about Danielle and Cullen’s relationship.  She feels like a gangly girl next to the Queen.  The royal couple are a perfect set, they look more complete together than apart.  She knows how that feels.  She looks up at Cullen.  Lost in her own thoughts, she doesn’t really listen to the old friends catching up.  The owl seems to get bored and it flies away, mumbling something about how rude humans are.

“Well, we don’t have much time.  If we are taking care of this demon, then we need to move quickly and you’ll need to be armed.  Give me a moment.”  Danielle walks a few feet away.  A ghostly soldier appears as if out of nowhere.  “Thank you for helping.  We’ll will return these weapons to you once we’ve finished our business.”  He bows to her and vanishes.  She returns to the group with a large bag.  It looks empty, but it couldn’t be.  She reaches in the bag and hands Alistair a sword and shield.  “Cullen?  Do you still prefer a sword and shield?”  He nods.  She produces them from the bag and hands them to him.  “Shea?”

She looks at the men strapping on their shields and smirks.  She always loves the look on people’s faces when a small, unassuming woman asks for, “A great axe.” Alistair coughs and looks her up and down.

“Are you sure?  You’re so…”

Cullen smirks, “She can handle it.”  Danielle shrugs and produces the weapon. She hands it to her and Shea examines it.  It’s not quite metal.  It’s spectral and ancient looking.  As if it was an old remnant of a time long passed.  She slings it onto her back.

Danielle sets the bag on the ground and it vanishes. “There are two big issues with trying to kill a specific demon.  We need to find her.  And then when we do, we have to take her down quickly.  She has bound herself to Cullen and will more than likely focus on trying to possess him.  She has the advantage, but we have the numbers. If, Maker forbid, we don’t take her down before she can get to Cullen…”

Shea swallows hard.  She looks over at Cullen who is pinching his nose.  He looks down at her and places a gloved hand on her face.  “Shea… if that happens.”

“It won’t.”

“I need you to listen to me.”  She tries to look away but he holds her face still.  “If that happens, if she possesses me… there is only one way that ends.  You will stall, try to find another way, but there isn’t one.  There can be no hesitation.  She will use me to kill you and I will be powerless to stop her.  If she… you have to kill me, Shea.”

She violently shakes her head.  “No.  There has to be…”

“There isn’t.  If I was younger, if my mind were stronger, if the withdrawals weren’t making me weak, then maybe.  But if she gets her claws in, she will never remove them.  That is our only option.”

Shea looks over to Danielle, who quickly looks away.  Alistair rubs her back and looks over to Shea.  “I wish I could say otherwise, but we’ve seen firsthand what a desire demon can do to a templar.  And though Cullen isn’t one anymore, she will use the lyrium in his blood to strengthen her hold.  Death is the only way.  I’m sorry.”

Shea turns her back on them and moves away from Cullen.  She wraps her arms around her chest and focuses on her breathing.   _“He can’t die.  He won’t die.  Take her down fast.  Cut her head off.  Do whatever you have to.”_  She takes a deep breath and turns back to them.  “What’s the plan?”

“We have to find her first.  I have an idea on how to do that, but you won’t like it.  It is however the fastest and most sure fire way to get the right demon.  As soon as she shows, we strike.  Hard and fast with everything we have.  Cullen will need to keep his distance until she’s weakened, then you can join the fray, but not a moment sooner.”

“You’re using me as bait, I take it?”

Danielle nods, “If we kill the wrong demon, then all of this is for nothing.  And only you can tell us for sure if it’s her.”

Shea shakes her head, “Then there’s a flaw in your plan.  He would have to talk to her, which gives her an opening before we can even attack.  What if… now this is risky, but what if we use me as bait.  She would love the opportunity to take out her competition.  Demons are weaker in the waking world, correct?”  Danielle nods. “If someone was waiting for her, ready to strike, then I could send her through.  We just have to make sure there are no other spirits or demons in range.”

Cullen likes this less than the other plan, but it could work.  “We’d need to prepare. Our bodies are not exactly battle ready at the moment.”

“And if we do that, Alistair and I can’t help.  We’re too far away.  We can amend that though.  I think Cullen could get her here.  Then we wake him.  Take him out of her reach.  As soon as you wake, you’ll get ready while we weaken her.  Then Shea can bring her through, weakening her further.  Then we wake Shea to help you fight.  If she’s killed in the waking world, she will not form to the same being she is now.  Everything about her will change and it would provide a larger guarantee that she won’t come back to you later in your life.”

Shea looks over at Cullen.  “Well?  Do you think you can manage it?”

“I can only think of two possible problems on my end.  The first is keeping my focus while the demon is here.  The second is getting us both battle ready while you’re asleep.”

She smiles at him, “I think you can manage that.  Even if we aren’t in full armor.  One demon is no match for the both of us.”

“Then that’s the plan.”

Shea, Danielle, and Alistair find hiding places within striking distance.  Cullen stands in the middle of the large space.  The spectral sword and shield in hand.  He fights the urge to look at Shea.  He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.  He shouts, “Alright, you bitch!  I’m here!  Come and get me!”  He doesn’t have to wait long.  She slinks towards him.

“Did you come to pay me a visit then?  You and…”  She inhales deeply through her nose.  “Oh my.  Talk about a blast from the past.  The Warden.  The other warden.  And your new lover.  All in my domain.”  So much for the element of surprise.  Shea steps out her hiding place.  She nods to Cullen.  The look on his face lets her know that he is having a hard time.  Cullen backs away from the demon as she stalks towards him.  Shea is behind the demon walking as silently as she can.  “Now, what are we going to do with about all this?  Did you think you would kill me?  Get rid of me.”  She reaches out to touch him.

Shea shouts, “Cullen wake up!”  He vanishes and the demon hisses.  She spins to face Shea.

“How dare you?”

“I think we’ve heard enough from you.”  Shea charges and knocks the demon to ground.  She raises her axe to strike and gets kicked in the chest.  She falls backwards.

Shea watches lightning fly past her face as she lays on her back.  Alistair helps her up.  Danielle curses loudly, “There’s more than one!”  A handful of demons move from the shadows to stand with Cullen’s desire demon.

“Will the plan still work?”

“Are you crazy?  Unleashing all those demons on Skyhold?!  You’d both die!”

Alistair moves to stand in front of Danielle, “And If we don’t get out of here, we’ll all die.”

The Desire demon smiles at them.  “You all thought you could outsmart us?  Flashing that green light everywhere.  Then bringing my pet here.  Did you forget that we are connected?  I felt him as soon as he entered the Fade.”

Shea curses herself for being so stupid, for not thinking of something so obvious.  She glances over at the rulers of Ferelden. “Go. I’ve got this.”

“Dani, why do you always trust the crazy ones?”

She spins him around, “I love you.”

“Why does that sound like…?”

“Wake up.”

Alistair vanishes.  Shea doesn’t know why that phrase works so immediately.  It must have something to do with the potion.  “If you say that to me, I’ll just come back.  I have that power.”

“Ferelden will survive without me, but not him.  He has a child, but the last thing I want is for Morrigan to gain control of the throne.  She’s not evil like her mother, but I don’t think even she would pass up the opportunity if he died in his sleep.”

“I want to hear that story.  If we survive this.”

***

Cullen sits up in bed.  He sticks to the plan.  He knows time is short.  He rips her armor of the form.  He puts her dark leather padding and then focuses on the vital pieces, chest and stomach only.  He lays her axe beside her on the bed.  He goes back to his form.  He puts on the padding and then the armor to protect his chest and stomach.  He straps on his belt, sword still attached, and picks up his shield.  He stands at the foot of the bed and waits.

***

Shea is still standing, but barely.  Danielle is winded but is physically fine.  Three demons have been downed, but Cullen’s demon and few others remain.

“Any bright ideas, Warden?”

“Yeah.  Stop taking hits for me.  If I can kill a bleeding archdemon and a horde of darkspawn, I can take some fucking demons!”

“What happens when morning comes?”

“Nothing.  If we stay asleep, it won’t matter.”  They fend off another round of attacks, felling a rage demon in the process.  “Damn it!  There’s still too many to send through!”

Shea almost smacks her forehead.  “I’m so fucking stupid!”

“What now?”

“We can get help!  Solas walks the Fade every fucking night!”

“Solas?”

“He’s a mage.  And my friend.  I just hope he’s back at Skyhold by now.  I wonder if Dorian also walks the Fade?”

“Another mage?”

“Yeah.  And if Dorian is dreaming and if he’s with Bull that gives us one more fighter.”

Danielle looks at the group of demons in front of them.  “I could find them.  But… I’d have to leave you alone.  I don’t think you’d survive.”

Shea takes a deep breath.  “Give me the best barriers you can create.  Find them. Solas has a lot of spirit friends, Dorian doesn’t.”

“So, Dorian would be somewhere in Skyhold.  And Solas can be signaled via spirit.  When I know they are going to help, I’ll signal you… somehow.  Then pull them through and wake yourself up.”

“Got it.”

Danielle casts the strongest protection she can on Shea.  “I won’t know the outcome of this.  If you survive, let us know.”  Shea nods.

“Go.  I’ll cover you.”  Danielle places a hand on her shoulder and runs.

The Desire demon smirks and the demons circle around Shea.  “All alone it would seem.  How loyal your friends are.  This worked out far better than he hoped.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Elder One.  You didn’t think The Nightmare kept the information he pulled from your Commander’s head a secret did you?”  She cackles.  “You really are stupid.  A naive, blind fool of a girl.  You’ve been played, my dear.”

Shea spots a pink owl flying into the gates of fade Skyhold.  “ _Just keep her talking.  Buy yourself some time.”_

“Played?  Played how exactly? How could he possibly know this would happen?”

“Not this exactly.  He assumed you’d use the mark to enter the fade, so you could kill me.  Then I could climb inside you and not only get my pet, but he would get the mark he craves.” A demon roars behind her.  “Ah, but my friend here is right.  We’ve talked long enough.  I can take over you from here and Cullen will be none the wiser.  Especially when I was your mark to bring my friends here through a rift.”  The demons close around Shea.

***

Cullen is standing ready next to Shea when he hears feet on the stairs.  “Vishante kaffas!  What the hell have you gotten yourself into?!”  Dorian, Bull, and Solas come running up the stairs.  Cullen doesn’t know how they knew to come help, but he’s grateful.

Bull, wearing only pants and boots, rubs his good eye.  “Why the hell did I get woken up at this hour?”

“I told you, Amatus.  A lovely woman came to me in my dreams and told me these two idiots had decided to take on a horde of demons in the fade.” Dorian is wearing a silky robe and nothing else.  Bull looks at his crotch and winks.  Dorian’s face turns red and pulls it tighter around him.

Solas is in his usual attire, “Really?  Well, I was told by a Spirit of Wisdom in the shape of a pink owl.  He was quite rude.  If I had known this was her plan, I would not have made her those potions.”

Cullen nods to them, “Thank you for helping us.  I’m sorry to have had to… wait did you say horde?  There’s was only one when Shea woke me.”

“Apparently the situation has changed.”

Cullen looks back at Shea.  That had to be what was taking so long.  If the woman Dorian describes is Danielle, then Shea is alone.  He knows Danielle wouldn’t have let Alistair stay if there was a risk of him dying.  His blood boils.  He looks at the box of potions on the floor and is tempted to take another to try to save her.  Bull’s voice breaks through his concentration.

“Rift!  There’s a rift!”

In the center of the room, a jagged green line starts to crack open.  With a burst of energy it snaps open, green light fills the room.  Pools of light form around the room.  Dorian and Solas prime spells and Bull readies his axe.  Cullen stations himself between one of the pools and Shea.  As the demons rise from their pools, the rift slams closed.  The battle in her quarters begins.  Four demons in total were pulled through.  Dorian and Bull make quick work of a terror demon.  Solas freezes two rage demons. Cullen backs into the bed as his Desire demon appears in front of him.  The other three are too distracted to even notice.  She charges him, her claws ready to strike.  He didn’t expect his reaction.  His cowardice.  His is reduced to a 19 year old templar in Ferelden’s Circle tower.  

He is too slow to remember the shield in his hand.  Just as he expects to feel the tearing, blood spatters on his face and a woman cries out in pain.  He is pushed back on the bed as he tries to wipe the blood from his eyes.  He gets the blood cleared in time to see Shea swing her axe and cutting his demon’s head off.  He feels light.  His headache dissipates.  For the first time since the Blight, he has no pain in his temples.  He stares at the ceiling, his weapons falling to the floor as his arms spread out beside him.  He takes a deep breath and lets it out in relief.

A hand grips his ankle as it dangles off the bed breaks his trance.  He sits up.  Shea is laying on her stomach on the ground.  His heart drops when he sees her.  The blood on his face is hers.  “No!”  He kneels down beside her.  The armor on her back is shredded.  Dorian and Solas rush over.  They push him out of the way.  He sits with his back pressed against the bed.

Dorian shakes his head.  “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.  She’s going to be furious later.”

“Will she be alright?”

Solas nods, “Her armor kept the demon’s claws from going too deep.  But the claws and metal have done a lot of damage.”

Dorian sighs, “In short, she’s going to have more scars.”

Cullen presses his palms into his eyes. _“This is my fault.  She got hurt because of me.  My fault.  More scars because of me.”_ She cries out as Dorian lifts her.  Solas gets the straps of her armor unhooked.  Dorian carefully sets her back down.  Her nails dig into the floor as they peel her mangled back piece off.  Cullen repeats, “My fault.  My fault,” over and over.

Dorian looks over at Bull.  “Get him out of here.”  Bull walks on the bed and grabs under his armpits.  He yanks him off the floor and drags him from the room.  Dorian grabs a dagger from her wardrobe and slices down the back of her leather padding.  They peel it open, causing her to scream again.  Her fingers bleed from clawing at the stone floor.

Solas looks up at Dorian, “We need to put her under.”

“No!  I don’t want to sleep!”

“Darling…”

“I said no.”

She can feel the potion still pulsing in her system.  She fears if they put her under, she’ll just go back to the fade and be too weak to defend herself.  They both sigh.  Dorian grabs a pillow off the bed and lifts her head.  He places it under her and she grabs hold of it.  She bites down and they pull pieces of metal and leather out of her wounds.

***

Bull and Cullen sit on the steps that lead to Shea’s throne.  They don’t speak.  They just wait.  The door opens to Shea’s quarters and they both stand.  Dorian is wiping his hands as he approaches them.  “She refuses to go to sleep.  We can’t move her because she’s in too much pain.  She won’t take anything for the pain because it would put her to sleep. The wounds aren’t as bad as they looked with her armor on.  She’ll heal in time, but that demon used magic when she attacked.  They will have to heal on their own.”

Cullen pinches the bridge of his nose, “But she’ll live?”

“She was never in danger of dying.  I saw what happened and if she hadn’t blocked you, the blow _would_ have killed you.”  Cullen presses his palms into his eyes again.  “We’d like to move her to the bed, but we need some strapping men who can lift her without disturbing the compresses or causing her unnecessary pain.”

They follow the mage up the stairs.  Her room is wrecked.  The couch, the small table, and two sets of windows are broken.  Her desk is turned over, ink pooling on the floor, various papers are scattered on the ground.  Fade goo and demon remnants litter the floor.  The bed is messy but intact.  The worst part for Cullen is where Shea is laying clutching a now bloody pillow.  Blood spatters are all over and a small pool of blood is under her.  Her mangled and torn armor cast off to the side.  Her hair sticks to the blood and tears on her face.

Solas looks up from where he is kneeling pressing wet bandages onto her back.  She whimpers against the pillow.  “She would be more comfortable if her back were left bare, but we couldn’t get the rest of her armor off without causing more pain.”

Cullen nods, “I can handle that later.”  He and Bull bend down on either side of her.  Cullen gathers himself, she needs him to be strong.  He can feel it.  He whispers to her, “We’re going to move to the bed, love.  Try to stay as still and rigid as you can.”  She slowly nods.  They each grab a shoulder and a hip.  They feel her tense and as gently as they can lift her from the floor.  She tries not to cry out, but a little of the sound escapes her.  The set her down on the bed and she sighs as she lands on the soft surface.

Solas sees the box of potions and scoops them up.  “I’ll get rid of these.  If she wants to have any more secret meetings in the Fade, she’s going to have to find another way to do it.”  

Bull pats Cullen on the shoulder.  “I’m not saying a word about this stupid shit you two just pulled.  It would only make shit worse.”  He heads for the stairs, grabbing Dorian’s hand to make him follow.

“Thank you.”

Solas starts to leave but pauses looking down at her then back to Cullen.  “I didn’t want to believe the whispers I heard from the spirits tonight.  The King and Queen were going to battle with The Inquisitor and Her Commander.  I blamed myself mostly.  When she asked me about nightmares and controlling them, and then asked me to make that potion for her… I should have put the pieces together.  If I had…”

“She would have found another way.”

“You are probably right.

Cullen follows them and locks the door behind them.  On his way back up the stairs, he sees her bell is still connected, so he unhooks it.  He puts his armor on the rack and places his weapons next to it.  He changes back into his comfortable clothes.  He sits carefully next to her.  “Shea?”

“What?”

“Do you want me to remove your armor now or later?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll try to do it now, but if it hurts too badly, you’ll just have to wear it.”  He carefully reaches under her and unlaces her pants.  They slide off easy enough, only a tiny amount of pain.  He looks at the mangled leather shirt.  The metal parts of her armor had fallen away when they moved her.  “I’m going to try to untie this first and then I should be able to slide it off.”

“Ok.”

He slides his hand under her.  She whimpers and clinches her jaw.  His movements are slow but his fingers work quickly.  He slides his hands out from under her.  “How was that?”

“Well, it hurt.”

“I’m going to pull on your sleeve now.”  He moves her arm slowly so that it is straight put to the side.  She hisses and whimpers as the movement moves her shoulder blades.  “I’m so sorry, love.”  He pulls on the sleeve and that half of the leather is removed.  “Think you can handle one more?”  She nods.  He does the same thing to her other side.  “Ok.  Armor’s off.”  She sighs.  She doesn’t know where to put her arms.  Her back throbs every time she moves.  “What do you need?”

“I… my arms… I don’t know…” 

He take her hand.  “Tell when it doesn’t hurt.”  He moves her arm to her side, she shakes her head.  He slowly moves it up. 

When it’s almost complete raised, “There!”  He bends her elbow and she shoves her hand under the pillow.  She moves the other arm on her own to match it.  He sits beside her and leans against the headboard.  He run his fingers through her hair.  She sniffles and turns her face toward him.  “How are you?”

“Don’t worry about…”

“Answer the damn question.”

He sighs.  He scoots lower on the bed and lays on his side beside her.  He brushes his fingers down her scar.  “I assume you’re not asking about how I feel about what just happened to you because I feel like shit about that.  As for my head…”  He really thinks about it.  She watches him think through her pain blurred vision.  “When she died, I felt light.  For the first time in over a decade, there was no pain.  My headache was just gone.  It’s back now, but for one tiny moment, I had no pain.”  He rolls onto his back staring at the ceiling.  “Now that I’m assessing myself, the song is louder.  Much louder.  I think… having a being from the Fade tied to me was holding the withdrawal back.  Only time will tell, but it’s going to be rough from here on out.  And until I sleep, I won’t know how the nightmares will be.”

She ignores her pain and reaches out to touch his face.  Despite the physical pain she is in, her heart is flying.  “So… you’re free?”

He looks over at her.  “It seems that way, yes.”

“Could you… do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“I’m not sure where it is now, but in my desk drawer, bottom left, at the very bottom is a note from Danielle.”  He gets up and goes to her desk.  He puts it back on upright position and tries to open the drawer.

“Is it locked?”

“No.”

“Ok.”  He sees her dagger on the floor and picks it up.  He uses it to pry the drawer open.  He digs threw the papers.  He feels magic on one of them.  It hums softly.  His mouth waters when he touches the paper.  This is why the signing is so loud.  The paper is soaked in lyrium and Danielle’s magic.  “Got it.”

“On the back, write to Danielle and tell her what happened.  Then ask her why I can still feel the potion, because that hasn’t happened before.  Once you’ve done that, go down the stairs and take the secret way.  I have a raven, Sky, stashed down there.  Her cage should be open.  Give her the note and tell her to take it to Danielle.  I hope she’s still in the fade.”

He picks up her chair and sits in it.  “Uh… where do you keep your spare inkwells?”

“I don’t have any.” 

He chuckles and picks up the quill off the floor.  I dips it in the pool of ink still spreading across the stone and writes.  He pauses.  “Wait.  Why do you hope she’s in the Fade if I’m writing her a letter?”

“Enchanted paper, spirit possessed bird.”

“Uh… this shit just keeps getting weirder.”  He quickly writes the letter and heads down the stairs.  Sure enough, hidden under some stairs is a raven in a cage.  In the darkness, the raven’s eyes glow green.  It sends chills up his spine.  “Shea wants you to take this to Danielle.”  The bird clamps her beak on the note and flies up the stairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Free at last!
> 
> UPDATED July 23, 2018


	46. Paralyzer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift

Cullen returns to Shea.  “So, that bird gives me the creeps.  Also, the paper was enchanted.  I could… hear it.”

“Hear it?”

“It was soaked in lyrium and Danielle’s magic.  I’m pretty sure that’s why the song was so loud.  It’s quieter now.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Yes.  It’s hard to resist when I can hear it calling to me.”  She squeezes when eyes closed.  “What is it?”

She whines, “My foot itches.”  He laughs and kisses her forehead.

“Which one?”

She wiggles the toes on her right foot.  “This is one.”  He moves down by her feet.  He picks up her foot and scratches the top of her foot.  “To the left.  Other left.  Keep going.  Now down.  By the toes.  Oh yeah!  That’s it!”  He pats her foot and sets it back down.  He crawls back up the bed and lies down next to her.  He lays down on his back with one knee up.  Sky comes flying through the open balcony doors and lands on his knee.  She makes eye contact and waits.  “She wants you to take it from her.”  He reaches forward and takes the note from her beak.  His fingers touch it and the song returns.  The bird flies of down the stairs.  He pinches his nose and then opens the note.  “We can get rid of the paper if it really bothers you.”

“That’s not necessary.  I’m just not used to it being this loud.”

“What does she say?”

He clears his throat, “Cullen.  I’m sorry to hear about what happened to Shea.  I know you are probably blaming yourself, but don’t.  She is strong and stubborn, like you, she’ll be ok.  I’m glad to hear that demon bitch is dead.  As for the potion, it’s only designed for one trip.  I find it odd that she can still feel it.  Maybe it’s reacting to using the mark in the Fade when she wasn’t physically attached to it?  I don’t know.  I will stick around just in case.  Have someone mix elfroot concentrate, embrium concentrate (don’t let them tell you it’s not a thing, because it is.  I’ve used it, but it’s not something you can buy.  It’s made the same way as the elfroot), dried and finely ground royal elfroot and spindleweed leaves, and some dessert wine.  Yes, I said wine, the sweeter the better.  All ingredients are equal parts.  It’ll make a very fragrant paste.  Spread it directly on the wounds and let it breathe.  No bandages.  She won’t need anything at all for the pain and it with help with the inflammation.  Though it might not be able to be magically healed, nothing beats good old fashioned alchemy.  After a couple of days, she should be healed enough to walk around.  Keep using it until the wounds are healed.  I’m taking a break from the Fade for a while, at my husband’s insistence, but sending messages through Sky is still the fastest way to get a hold of me.  If you’re reading this out loud, I suggest you stop now.”  He looks over at Shea.  “Should I continue?”

“It appears she has something to say that she doesn’t want me to know.  Read it first and if you don’t want to share, I’ll just have to live with that.”

He turns his attention back to the note. He reads the rest of it and then clears his throat again, “Reading to yourself now?  I hope so.  I know you were never good at expressing how you feel, but I hope you’ve told her you love her.  It’s written all over your face.  Hers too.  Life is too short to let the world or your job get in the way of feeling true happiness.  I hope both of you know that sacrificing your lives for the other is not the way to do things.  I have firsthand experience in this.  I didn’t want Alistair to die nor did he want me to die.  When the opportunity arose to save us both from dying by killing the archdemon, I leapt at it.  Did I want him to have sex with Morrigan?  No.  Did it hurt to know he was spending what could have been our last night together in her bed and not mine?  Yes.  But if I hadn’t put my own selfishness to have him to myself aside, I would be dead and he would be ruling Ferelden broken and alone.  That’s the kind of sacrifice you should be making.  Not trying to off yourself to save the other.  Love is not selfish.  And letting yourself be killed to save the other is selfish.  Actually, go ahead and read this out loud.  She needs to hear all that too.  Don’t keep secrets from each other.  And for the love of Andraste have kids.  Both of you are far too good looking to keep your genes to yourself.  If we could, we’d already have two or three and I wouldn’t be running all over the damn world to… nevermind… I guess that’s all I needed to say.  Take care.  Danielle.”  He looks down at Shea.  She weakly smiles at him.  “How bad is the pain?”

“Bad, but not worse than having a mountain fall on me.”

“I can run down stairs.  I could actually probably make this myself.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.  I’ve picked up a few things in my time.”

“That makes you sound old.”

“Sometimes I feel old.”  He leans down and kisses her forehead.  “I’ll be right back.”  He gets up and puts on his boots and wraps his cloak around him.  He takes the letter and goes downstairs.  Skyhold is quiet.  Sunrise is still hours off.  He heads into the garden to gather want he can, then heads up to the newly finished mage tower.  Everything he needs is there, except the wine.  He doesn’t know anything about wine, but he knows someone who does, who is probably still awake.  He leaves his supplies in the tower and heads for the rooms overlooking the garden.  He knocks on the door to Dorian’s room.

An angry Tevinter shouts through the door, “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“I know it’s late.  But I need something for Shea.”

Dorian flings the door open.  He is completely naked.  “Is something wrong?”

He covers his eyes, “Maker!”

Dorian smirks, “It’s not like you haven’t seen a naked man before, Commander.”

“To answer your question, no.  Nothing is wrong.  I just need some wine for a poultice.”

“Wine?  That’s an odd thing to put in a poultice.”

“I’m just doing as I was instructed.”

“Who gave you the recipe?”

“Danielle, the Hero of Ferelden.  She said it would heal her and take away her pain.”

“The wounds are laced with magic.  Is she certain this will work?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of wine?”

“She said dessert wine, the sweeter the better.”  Dorian steps from the door and goes over to some wine bottles.  He bends over to look inside a cabinet.  “Could you at least cover yourself?  This is…”

Dorian looks over his shoulder still bent over, “Am I making you uncomfortable, Commander?”

“Yes.”

Dorian smirks and grabs a bottle.  “This is the sweetest wine I have.”  He saunters back over to Cullen.  He holds the bottle out to him.  “I’m loving your chest hair, by the way.”  Cullen takes the bottle and rubs his neck.  Dorian shake his head, “Such as waste.”

“Uh… thanks… for the wine.”

“If you ever want to learn more about wine, my door is open.”

Cullen doesn’t respond.  He just turns and walks away.  He hears Dorian chuckle and close his door.  He could have gone his whole life without seeing that.  Next time, he’ll wait until day light to ask him for help again.  And maybe bring a chaperone.  He goes back to the mage tower and gets to work.  He makes as much of the poultice as he can with the supplies at hand.  He takes the left overs and the mixture back to her room.

***

While Cullen is off making the poultice, Shea can do nothing but think.  She knew the demon wouldn’t kill her when she blocked the attack, but she didn’t think it would be this bad.  She’d been hit by demons before but they never cut though her armor.  She is going to have to get it replaced.  She hasn’t seen the damage, but she doubted it could just be repaired.  But that isn’t important.  He is finally free from that demon and she is the one who killed her.  All this pain is worth it.  Now to get that lyrium out of his system and he’d really be free.  She wants to cry.  Not from the pain, but because it has worked.  She is happy for him.

She has her own problems, but she feels that maybe she is over them.  Or at least she will be soon.  She lets her mind bounce around happily in her head.  A cold wind belows in from the open balcony doors causing her to shiver.  She cries out in pain as the chill rocks her body.  She feels tired, but the pain keeps her awake.

She feels his warm hand on her hip.  “Are you ok?  I heard you cry out.”

“I’m just got cold.  Shivering hurts.”

He sets his supplies down on the desk and closes all the balcony doors.  He can’t do anything about the broken windows, but it’ll have to do for now.  He sighs.  _How am I going to get all this fixed and cleaned without anyone finding out?_   He pushes the thought from his mind and grabs the bowl containing the mixture from the desk.  He sits carefully next to her.  He reaches for the bandages on her back and pauses.  “I’m so sorry.”

“What?”

“I need to remove the bandages.”

She grabs hold of her pillow and bites it.  He slowly peels the bandages from her back.  She stifles a cry every time a bandage is peeled away.  Blood cakes her back.  He stands and goes into the bathroom.  He finds the bowl filled with water.  He grabs it and a towel then goes back to the bed.  He carefully cleans around the wounds.  Once that’s done, he has his first real look at the damage.  Five jagged lines run diagonally down her back.  Starting thick on her right shoulder and tapering off at her left hip.  The lines aren’t much bigger than his finger’s width across.  He sets the bowl of water and the dirty towel on the floor.  He grabs the poultice mixture and gently slathers it on the wounds.  The pain relief is instant.  She sighs loudly and relaxes her grip on the pillow. 

“I take it that it’s working?”

“Yes.  It’s tingly, but there’s no pain unless I move.”  He finishes the application of her medicine and picks up both bowls.  He puts them on the desk.

“Are you still cold?”

“Yes.”  He folds the blanket over the lower half of her body.  He crawls into bed beside her and lays on his side.  He runs his fingers through her hair and watches her eyes slowly drift closed.  She moves her hand out from under the pillow and feels around for him.  He scoots closer and she finds his face.  She runs her finger down his scar and rests her hand on his neck.  He wants to cuddle her, to hold her, but he knows he can’t.  This is the best she can do.  He covers her hand with his and laces their fingers together.  He watches her sleep for a while.  Her eyes move rapidly behind her eyelids.  He sighs.  She is either in the Fade or having a nightmare.  He doesn’t know which one he’d prefer at this point.

He fears going to sleep himself.  He can’t remember that last time he’s had a normal nightmare, one not manipulated by a demon.  What horrors have been hiding from him?  His eyes close against his will.  He struggles to stay awake, but he loses the battle.

***

When Shea wakes up the next morning, his face is right in front of hers.  His is out cold.  His eyes are still.  He isn’t talking in his sleep.  He is pressed up against her side and his mouth hangs open.  She sees a little drool at the corner of his mouth.  He looks so adorable that she hates to wake him.  But her back is beginning to hurt again and she desperately has to pee.  She carefully moves her face closer to him and kisses his nose.  He smirks in his sleep.  Her heart flutters.  She whispers, “Cullen.”

His eyes open instantly.  “Are you ok?”

She pats his face with the hand that was on his neck.  “Yes.  Well, sort of.  I hate to ask this, but I really have to pee.”

He smirks.  “How’s your back?”

“I’m starting to get feeling back in it.”  He sits up to look at it.  The poultice has completely soaked in.  He gets out of bed and grabs the bowl.  He slathers the wounds and she sighs.  “Ok.  Pain’s gone.”

He puts the bowl back and sits beside her.  “So, how do we do this?”  She shifts testing which way hurts less.  She manages to roll onto her left side.  He takes her hands and helps her sit up.  She winces and moves her legs over the edge of the bed.  She wraps her arms around his neck and he helps her stand.  Even with the medicine, her back throbs from the effort.  “Think you can walk?”

“Not without help.”  With most of her weight supported by her arms around his neck, he walks backwards to the chamber pot.  She braces herself against the wall as he removes her smallclothes.  He helps her sit and leaves her to do her business.  “Cullen?”

He sticks his head in the door, “Yes?”

“I’m uh… done.”  He helps her stands and put her smalls back on her.  She wraps her arms around his neck and he helps her back on the bed.  She lays on her stomach and sighs.  “Well… that was… awkward.”

“Well… it’s nothing be embarrassed about.”

“For you maybe.  My boyfriend just had to help me pee.”

He smirks.  “I’ve never heard you say that before.”

“I… I’ve actually never said it before.”

He runs his fingers through her hair.  “It occurs to me that I haven’t heard people mumbling about us for quite some time now.  I wonder if that means we’re no longer the subject of juicy gossip.”

“We might have to do something about that.  If people don’t talk about us, or tease more accurately, how will I get to see you blush in public?”

“I can think of a few ways.  More public displays maybe.”

“What are your plans for today?”

“Changing the subject are we?”

“Maybe.”

He smirks.  “Well, I planned on taking care of you all day, while also trying to put your room back together.  I’m not sure how to explain the broken things though.”

“You’ll figure something out.”

***

Days pass without anyone figuring out that Shea has been injured fighting a demon.  Cullen gets her room cleaned and has Shea write a letter to Josephine saying she wants to update her furniture.  No one ever sees the broken stuff because he has Bull help him throw it out the window and then Dorian would turn it to ash before it crashed into the mountain.  Everyone thinks she is sick, and Cullen tells them he has ordered her to stay in bed or at least in her quarters.  Shea works from her room, even manages to sit at her desk in a bathrobe when war meetings needed to happen.  Josephine postpones the trip to Halamshiral until Shea is feeling better.  The only person to question the story they spun is Harritt.  Cullen has to help her down to the undercroft and she decides to tell him that some of the pieces got lost sometime during her travels.  He doesn’t believe her, based on how she is having to have Cullen help her walk and the fact she always travels _wearing_ the armor, he figures she got hit bad enough to destroy the pieces she asked for.  But he knows it isn’t his place to question her.

The biggest thing to happen during these days of healing and lying are reports from the Lavellan Clan in Wycome.  The advisor was Venatori and is now dead.  The red lyrium poisoning the nobles has been dealt with, but they are all now suffering from withdrawals and looking to use the elves and commoners for “sport”.  Their keeper informs them that once the clan is safe, Moira will be coming to Skyhold.  Shea orders Leliana to get the Dalish into the city, because she thinks if their hunters don’t scare the nobles off, nothing can.  Shea worries about putting them all at risk, but if the Inquisition can get them safe behind stone walls, she’ll feel better.

She is able to care to herself more and more every day, which allowed Cullen to return to his duties.  At some point during this time, she learns she isn’t pregnant.  She never told him she was worried about it.  Why add more stress to their lives when she didn’t know?  And now that she knows she isn’t, she doesn’t feel the need to tell him she was worried to begin with.  She doesn’t know how she feels about kids.  But after Danielle’s last letter, her mind keeps coming back to the subject.  Before the conclave, she never even considered it and now, with the world falling to pieces, she doesn’t think it is for her.  At least not any time soon.

The delayed trip is finally upon them.  Shea refuses to travel in anything but her armor, which Josephine complains about, but she can’t argue with Shea’s reasoning.  If something happens on the road, she doesn’t want to be left defenseless.  She and the advisors ride together to discuss the plans.  While everyone else in the inner circle are separated into two carriages.  Bull refuses to ride in one claiming his horns will get stuck.  The troops Cullen wanted to bring had left ahead of them.  Her back isn’t completely healed, so the ride in the bumpy carriage is hell.  Cullen tries his best to ease her pain by using his arm as a cushion, but it doesn’t help.

It is night when the carriages turn into the city.  Shea is curled up in the seat beside Cullen, her head in his lap.  He forgets about the women seated across from them and they watch him run his fingers lovingly through her hair.  This is the first time Josephine has actually seen them together.  She knew he was interested in her, but this is the moment she knows there is something more there.  At least on his part. “It’s going to be hard to tease you now that I’ve seen you together.”

He looks up at her, “Excuse me?”

“Well, you two are always so business like that I was beginning to doubt you were actually an item.  I see now I was mistaken.”

“I’m not sure how to respond to that.”

“You are sweet together.  A little bright spot in all this hardship.  It’s going to make messing with you harder.

Leliana chuckles, “Speak for yourself.  I think it makes it easier, and I bet she’d help.”

Josephine rubs her chin, “Hmm.  She does get a kick out of watching you blush.”

He groans and returns his attention to Shea.  He watches her eyes move behind her eyelids, hears the tiny whimpers escape her lips.  He pushes her hair behind her ear and traces the outline of it.  He runs his thumb down her jawline.  The carriage hits a rather large pothole and it wakes her.  She sits up quickly and looks around bleary-eyed.  The movement makes her wince.  He places a gloved hand on her face, “It’s alright, love.”

She sighs and puts her head back in his lap.  Leliana and Josephine exchange glances.  They saw her wince and then heard him call her “love”.  They would love answers to both the questions that brings up, but they bite their tongues.  Josephine glances out the window of the carriage and smiles.  “We’re almost there.  I’ve secured a beautiful villa for us. It’s right on the water.  One of our allies is letting us use it.”

Shea rubs her face and looks over at her.  “Which one?”

The ambassador smiles.  “You’ll see.”

Shea shrugs and settles back in, resting her eyes a little more before she has the start playing The Game.  Something in her smile, gives Cullen pause.  If Shea were more awake, she would feel it too.  He can’t place what bothers him about that smile, but she is definitely hiding something.

They are the third carriage in line as they pull into a gated driveway.  Josephine makes him wait to get out as it isn’t proper to get out before the carriage pulls to the front.  He looks out the window at the large estate.  His soldiers are standing next to the guards of the household.  His chest tightens.  He recognizes the colors they wear and the symbols on their chests.  The Trevelyan Family crest.  _No. Shit shit shit._ He looks down at Shea who has fallen asleep in his lap.  He covers her ears and looks up at Josephine.  “Is this her family’s Orlesian estate?”

She smiles, “It is.”

“I wish you hadn’t done that.”

“Is there a problem?”

“There will be.”

Cullen shakes Shea.  She rubs her eyes and slowly sits up.  He grabs her face.  “Cullen?”  The carriage moves forward and stops.  She sees a mixture of emotions on his face.  Anger, concern, compassion.  “What?  What is it?”

“You said once your family did business in Orlais.”

“Yes.  Why?”

“You’re going to have to lock yourself up for this. Be the Inquisitor.”

She removes his hands from her face.  “Cullen.  You’re scaring me.”  The carriages move again and stops.  The door opens.  Josephine steps out of the carriage, followed by Leliana.

“I didn’t know she planned this.  I’m so sorry.”  He stands and moves to the carriage door.  “Remember.  Be the Inquisitor.  I wish I could have given you more warning.”

“Cullen.  What’s going on?”

“We’re staying in your family’s villa.”

Shea sits back against the carriage and squeezes her eyes closed.  She pulls her mask into place.  Her heart was racing.  _He’s in Ostwick.  It’s just a house.  Everything’s fine._   She opens her eyes and watches Cullen step out of the carriage.  She stands and prepares herself to step out.  She hears Cullen growl under his breath and her blood chills.  She ducks her head as she steps out.  Cullen is standing with his feet square on the ground, his fist are closed tight, and he is blocking her view.  He feels her touch his back, but he doesn’t move.  She sees that his ears are red and his jaw in clinched.

She steps around him to look at his face.  He is glaring at something.  She follows his line of sight.  Standing in the top of the stairs is a tall well-dressed man with short auburn hair.  Her knees go weak, but she steadies herself on Cullen’s arm.  Her mind is screaming as her eyes meet his.  Ocean blue, just like hers.  He smiles and she feels like vomiting.  He turns his attention to Josephine who is talking to him.  She has to focus.  She stands up straighter, closes off her mind.  Shea is gone.  The Inquisitor stands next to Cullen.  She touches his arm and he looks at her.  “Commander?”

His stances relaxes.  He goes through the same process.  He closes off his mind, his rage, and locks Cullen away.  He straightens and nods to her.  They walked through their friends and walk up the stairs.  Bull, seeing how they are acting, instantly follows close behind them.  He makes himself look as imposing and threatening as possible.  He stands right next to Shea.  She can feel his muscled arm presses against her back.  Krem moves to stand by Cullen.

Her brother smiles broadly, “Little sister!  It’s good to see you!”  He goes to hug her, but Bull steps forward and growls softly when he feels her recoil.  “Ah.  That’s some bodyguard.  You all must be tired.  There will be plenty of time to catch up before the ball.  It’s still two weeks off and there’s a lot to do.  Come!  A tour!”  He turns and heads in the front door.  Shea’s feet move to follow on autopilot.  Her eyes are glued to him.  She bites in inside of her cheek and tastes the blood in her mouth.  Her shadows never leave her side.  Brandon gives them a brief tour of the villa and turns to an elf.  “This is Graydon.  He has the list your Lady Ambassador provided.  He will help you all find your rooms.  Make yourselves at home.  Many friend of my sister’s is a friend of mine!  If you are hungry, I am planning on having a late dinner in the main dining room, if you want to join.  I’ve brought the best ale in Ostwick with me.  Barrels of it.  We’ll make it a party!  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few matters to attend to.”  He bows to them and leaves.

As soon as he’s out of sight, Shea’s knee buckle.  Cullen wraps his arm around Shea’s waist to keep her vertical.  “Graydon was it?”

“Yes, ser.”

“Could you start with The Inquisitor’s room assignment?”

The elf bows, “Certainly, ser.  Follow me.”  Cullen nods to Bull.  A dismissal.

“I’m not leaving until you explain this.”

Cullen looks down at Shea.  “I think that’d be wise.  Come on then.”  Bull follows behind them.  The elf leads them up the marble stairs.  He leads them to the back of the villa.  He opens a door to a large ornate bedroom.  The gold and marble floors shine under a woven rug.  The rug is the only thing in the room that doesn’t smack of the gaudiness of Orlais.  It’s fancy, but rustic in comparison to the lavish bed, couches, tables, and even the fireplace.  The elf opens a door, “The bathroom.  If you need the bath filled, let one of us know.  We’ll have one prepared.”  He goes over to a large set of double doors.  He pushes them open.  “This is your private balcony.  Those doors there.”  He motions to another set of large double doors, “Also lead to this balcony.”  He moves over to a door that almost blends into the wall, “This door leads to the adjoining study.  Your ambassador requested that you have access to a private place to work.”  Shea pulls away from Cullen and sits on a couch.  The takes this as his cue to leave, “If you’d gentlemen will follow me, I’ll…”

“Is she staying here alone?  If so, where is my room?”

The elf flips through his lists, “Ah.  Yes, ser.  This is her private room.  Your room is on the other side of the villa.”

Cullen shakes his head, “No.  That’s unacceptable.  I’m staying here.”

“My apologies, ser.  The Ambassador and Bann Trevelyan were quite insistent.”

“I said no.”

“Please, ser.  If you wish to change your arrangements, you’ll have to speak with one of them.  I’m just doing my job.”

Bull pats him on the back.  “Go find where your room is.  I’ll wait with her.”

He grumbles, “Fine.  Lead the way.”

***

The house is so big everyone can have their own room.  The happiest about all this refinement is Vivienne and Dorian.  And though they don’t really get along they are sitting together buzzing about the best places to get wine and go shopping as they sit in the hall.  The elf wasn’t kidding when he said his room was on the other side of the villa.  He’s gotten lost twice just trying to find her room again.  He’s dragging his trunk behind him.  _To hell with waiting on permission!  They can kiss my ass!_ He finally finds a servant and stops her as she scurries off somewhere.  “Miss!  Wait!”  She stops and bows to him.

“Can I help you, ser?”

“I’m looking for The Inquisitor’s room.”

“Who?”  He hesitates.  _Why doesn’t this servant know who she is?_   She smacks herself in the forehead.  “Oh wait!  You mean Lady Trevelyan?”

He sighs, “Yes.”

She points down the hall.  “You’re almost there.  Just go down this hall take the first two rights and then the last left.  It’s the last door on that hall.”

He bows his head to her, “Thank you.”  She sees his trunk.

“Do you need help, ser?”

“No.  I’ve got it.”

“But a nobleman isn’t supposed to carry his own things.”

He smirks at her, “I’m not a noble.  Just a common boy from Ferelden.”

“You’re from Ferelden?!”

“Honnleath.”

She claps her hands, “I’m from West Hills!  Maker is it good to see a fellow Fereldan.  Especially _here._ ”

His smile widens, “ _Orlesians.”_

“I _know!”_   They share a laugh.  “Do you think you can find your way, ser?”

“I think so.  Thank you.  I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.”

“You never asked, ser.  Mirianda.  But my friends call me Miri.”

“Well, not to sound too informal, but thank you, Miri.”

She smiles brightly, “It’s my pleasure, ser.”  She scurries off down a hallway.  He follows her directions.  Down the hall, two rights, last left.  He sighs at the familiar looking hallway, especially at the sight of Krem standing outside her door.

“This place is a fucking maze.”

Krem laughs, “You got that right.  Chief got pulled away to be shown his room, I volunteered to stand guard.  I consider the Herald my friend and I want to protect her as much as he does.  If he had any idea what having family felt like, I think the big ox would say he loved her like a sister.”

“How is she?”

“She was sleeping when I got here.  I didn’t want to bother her.  So I waited out here.”

“Thank you.”

“No need for thanks.  Need help with that?”  He points the trunk.

“I’ve got it, but if you could get the door.”

“Sure thing.”  He opens the door from him and steps aside.  Cullen drags the trunk into the room and pushes it against a wall.  “I’ll got get Bull.  He wanted me to let him know when you got back.”  Cullen nods and Krem closes the door.

Cullen sits next to Shea on the couch.  She is curled into a ball, still in her armor.  He places his hand on her hip and she sits up.  “I’m not sleeping!  I’m…”  She sighs.  “You’re back.”  She throws her arms around him and flinches.

“Is your back bothering you?”  She nods.  “Then let’s take care of that.”  He goes over to his trunk and opens it.  He pulls out a bottle containing the poultice.  She stands and looks around the room.

“You’d think they would have provided armor racks.”  She opens the wardrobe and rolls her eyes.  “No armor form, but an ass load of dresses.”

“Guess we’ll just have to lay it out on these expensive couches.”

She smiles.  “Oh no.  The horror.  Armor is so filthy.  How could we possible look at it all the time?”

“Dear me, I hope it doesn’t stain the fabric!”  They laugh.  He sets the bottle down and starts to remove his armor.  She stands next to him and does the same.  “Bull’s coming over.  So, we should probably put on clothes.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

He laughs, “But I would.  He might feel obligated to do the same.”

She laughs, “I bet he would.”

She pulls a shirt from her trunk that is sitting next to the wardrobe.  It’s one of his but she has it altered.  She had the back split open and laces attached so he could doctor her and she wouldn’t be topless if someone one walked in.  She slips her arms in the sleeves and then grabs a pair of pants.  Again, they are his, but she has cut the legs off to make them into long shorts.  He shakes his head as he pulls on his own pants.  “Are you ever going to stop stealing my clothes?”

“Nope.”  He smirks and puts his comfortable shirt on.  He doesn’t bother lacing it.  She’s just going to make him take it off later.  He motions to the bed and she climbs up on it.  She lays on her stomach.  Someone knocks on the door.  “Who is it?”

“Bull and Kreme del a Krem.”  She hears Krem groan in the hallway.

“It’s open.”  Cullen is rubbing the poultice on her back when they enter. 

Krem whistles.  “How’d that happen?”

“Demon.” She lifts her head to rest her chin the bed.

“I hope you killed it.”

She smirks.  “Cut her head off.”

“Nice!”

Bull leans against the wall next to the bed.  “Krem.  Close the door.  Lock it.”  He turns and does as he’s instructed.  “Now.  What have we just walked into?”

“Well, Cullen is applying…”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Cullen puts to stopper in the bottle.  He sets it on the nightstand and wipe his hands on the expensive looking handkerchief he finds there.  “That man we met on the steps is Shea’s oldest brother.  This is his villa.  There is a… history there.”  Cullen ties the straps on Shea’s shirt and she sits up.

She takes a deep breath.  “Not a good history.”

Bull crosses his arms, “I gathered that.”

Shea looks over at Cullen.  She can’t bring herself to say it out loud.  He sighs seeing the look in her eyes.  “Do you remember when we were in the Fade at Adamant?”

Bull shivers.  “I try not to.”

“Remember when The Nightmare returned that memory to Shea?”  He nods.  “Turns out The Nightmare had taken a memory from her far more painful than what happened at the conclave when she was a teenager.  Her brother…”

Krem crosses his arms and looks at Shea, “Is this anything like when Bull saved me?”

Shea looks down at her hands and traces the outline of the mark.  “Yes.”

“So, that story you told me about what happened to you, like what almost happened to me… that was your brother?”

Bull pushes off the wall.  “You’re shitting me?  What is wrong with your family?!”

Cullen looks between them.  “Am I missing something?”

Krem shrugs, “You know I’m passing?”  He nods, “Well, when I was caught after running from Tevinter, some men were going to make an example of me.  They pinned me to the floor, then this big ox charged in, lost an eye, and saved me.”

“After he told me that, I felt I could share my story.  I just left out a few details.”

Bull growls and paces the room.  “That was a serious question.  What the hell is wrong with your family?”

She shrugs.  Cullen places his hand on her knee.  “Unfortunately, we can’t kill him.  Though I’d _love_ to. But I don’t want her alone with him.  Ever.”

“What if he had some kind of accident?”

Shea shakes her head, “Then not only would I be Inquisitor, but I’d be made Bann of Ostwick.  I never want to go back there, so… besides, we don’t even know if he remembers.”

Bull cracks his knuckles, “I could find out.”

Shea climbs off the bed and grabs his arms.  “Stand still would you?  Look.  I get it.  Believe me.  He’s fucked me up more than you can possibly imagine.  Worse than even Emeric and if you’ll recall he tried to kill me.  I would like nothing more than to have answers, to make him pay for what he did to me. But…”  She sighs, “The Inquisition needs him to get into the Winter Palace.  That’s how we got these invitations.”

“Then why tell us?”

Cullen clear his throat, “I can’t be here every second of everyday.  I have work to do.  Preparations to make.  We trust you and you can look out for her when I’m not around.  Your training also makes you uniquely qualified to hide how you feel about that asshole if he’s ever around.”

Bull growls, “I can do that.  But why Krem?  He doesn’t have that training.”

Krem nods, “I think I know why.  The Chargers.  If you’re acting as her personal bodyguard, then The Chargers need someone to lead them.  We’re the mercenary backup to Cullen’s men.  I can have a Charger on her door round the clock.  We care and have more of a personal attachment.  Your troops are well trained, but loyal to the Inquisition.  If issued an order, they’ll follow it. The Chargers only answer to one person.  That’s you, Chief.  You tell us to protect her above all other orders and those are our orders.”

Shea smiles, “That’s not really why, but it’s an excellent point.  Of all the people here, you understand better than anyone what I went though.  I can talk to you about this without that look people get.  So, when I’m having a hard time, you’ll listen, like Cullen listens.  Without judgement or pity.”

“So, I’m emotional support?  That’s new.”  He chuckles.  “I can do that.”

Shea yawns.  “It’s been a long trip.  I think we have a plan in place.  We’ll have to play the rest by ear, though you know how I hate doing that.  We’re officially playing the Game now.  And if I’m going to play it without getting us all killing, I need to rest.” Bull pulls her into a hug.  “Ow.”

“Shut up and accept it.”  She hugs him back as he squeezes her.  His big arms pressing into her back.  She breathes through the pain.  He lets her go and slaps Cullen on the back.  “I’m going downstairs.  I won’t start anything, but I need to watch him.  See what I can find out.  Come on, Krem.”  The two men leave.

She climbs back up on the high bed.  She traces the mark again.  Cullen watches her.  “What are you thinking about?”  She doesn’t answer.  “Shea?”

“I think I should confront him.”

“What?”

“I was talking to Cole earlier.”

“When was this?”

“You had left, I laid down pretending to be asleep.  Bull left and Krem peaked in and then went out into the hall.  Cole came to me.  He could feel my hurt and he waited for me.  He keeps telling me to write him a letter, express myself.  Then he said, that I needed closure.  I was slowly healing because of you but I couldn’t really get past it.  Like you with your demon.  That’s actually want gave him the idea.  Without the demon messing with your head, you’re free.  He said if I could confront him, then I might be free too.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“Is it?”  She looks up at him.  “He is my brother.  He might remember, he might not.  But I do.  Bottling this up isn’t helping.  Why do you think I opened up to Krem?  I didn’t even hesitate.  I still couldn’t say his name, but… I don’t know… It just feels like something I need to do.”

He looks deep into her eyes.  He can see that this scares her, but he can see her determination.  “You think this is safe?”

“Safe?  It’ll be hard.  I’m not a defenseless little girl anymore.  I have scars.  I’ve endured more in the past few months than most have in a lifetime.  And I have you.  You make me stronger.  You make me want to get over this.  I’m already halfway there.”

“You could barely look at him without running away earlier.  How do you expect to actually confront him?”

“I’m not saying it has to happen now.  Far from it.  Again, I’m just going to play it by ear.  If an opportunity presents itself, and I feel like I can handle it, I will do it then.”

Cullen takes her marked hand and rubs his thumb against the mark.  She watches him mull it over.  “Would you want me there?”

“I don’t know.  Be ready, just in case.”

“You got it.  Now let’s at least try to get some sleep.”  He pulls back the thick covers.  He groans.  “Silk sheets?  Really?”

She smiles and lays down on her side between the sheets.  “Stop complaining and come here.”  He lays down on his back and she snuggles against him.

“How’s your back?”

“Fine.  Why?”  He wraps his arms around her and pulls her to his chest.  She nuzzles him with her nose and twirls his hair between her fingers.  “I’ve missed this.”

“Me too.”  He falls asleep before she does.  Her mind wanders.  She has no idea where this strength she feels is coming from, but she feels like she can handle the trials ahead of her.  She feels safe with his arms around her after being without them for so long.  This is the first night her back doesn’t protest his touch.  She breathes in his scent.  Comforting and familiar.  Her eyes close and she kisses his chest before going to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The past always has a way of coming back to bite us.
> 
> UPDATED July 24, 2018


	47. You’ll Never Walk Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift

Shea and Cullen are seated in the main dining hall eating breakfast.  It seems like they are the only ones awake besides the other advisors.  Or at the very least, the only ones forced to leave their room.  Josephine had barged in their room bright and early.  Chattering about her brother and how charming he is.  That the party went into the wee hours of the morning, so she is giving the inner circle a day off.  No rest for the advisors though.  Shea has appearances to make.  People to meet.  Then the four of them are going to go off and do something in the city Shea can’t quite remember what as it sounded impossibly dull.  She doesn’t even get a chance to have Cullen doctor her back as he had to chase a servant down the hall who was taking his armor somewhere.

He has gotten it back and is wearing it now, but Josephine has hers taken away to be cleaned or something.  The Ambassador also had stylists invade her room after Cullen was gone.  So there she sits, pushing eggs around her plate, in pain and in a dress.  Not even one she liked.  She would never pick this color.  It completely clashed with everything about her.  Her hair, her eyes, the mark.  The dress is cut extremely low in the back, showing the full extent of her injuries, and light colored lace made them stand out like some sort of grotesque accessory.  She is grateful the bottom isn’t poofy like Orlesians like for balls.  But it is still long and tight, and she has a hard time walking in it and the heels on her feet.  Her face has makeup on it for the first time ever and her hair has been done up in some weird curly bun at the very top of her head.  She feels attacked and exposed.  She has Cullen’s mantle wrapped around her to hide her back.  She sulks as she makes a pile out of the scrambled eggs on her plate.  Out of the corner of her eye she sees Cullen smirk.

“What?”  He takes a bite of his food and shakes his head.  He covers his mouth as he smirks again.  “I saw that.”  He stifles a laugh.  “I’m going to hit you.”

“I’m sorry.  You just… you look…”

“You’re in dangerous waters, ser.”

He bursts out laughing.  She growls at him and he throws up his hands.  “I’m sorry.  You just look… so… ridiculous.”

His laughter is infectious.  She looks down at herself and chuckles.  “I feel like some sort of…”

“Canary?”

She narrows his eyes at him, “I was going to say duck.  You saw me trying to walk in these things.  If she thinks I’m going out like this, she’s got another thing coming.  I did bring my own clothes.”

“What?  You don’t want to walk around looking like a bird?”

She watches his eye flicker up to her hair.  “Why do you keep looking at my hair?”  He reaches up and plucks something from it.  He covers his mouth to hold in his laughter as he hands her the yellow feather.  She slams her fork down and pushes back from the table.  She looks around and waddles over to a mirror.  “Oh no!  Fuck this!  I’m changing!”  She plucks every feather she can she out of her hair.  She pulls all the pins out and shakes the curls free.  “Better.”  She waddles back to the table and sits.  She yanks a napkin off the table and dips it in his water glass.  She dumps the contents of her plate on the table and uses the metal plate as a mirror.  She cleans her face.  Removing most of the makeup.  She kicks her feet into Cullen laps.  “Take these off so I can walk.”  His has been laughing the whole time.  He takes of the shoes and she throws them across the room.   She stands and still has trouble walking.  She grabs a knife from the table and cuts the side seem up to her mid-thigh.

“Inquisitor!”  Josephine’s shocked voice sends him over the edge and he falls out of his chair into the floor.  “What have you done?”

“I made it better!”

“That was expensive.  Hand made for you.”

She puts the knife on the table.  “Was this person blind?  I was a noble Josie.  I know how to dress myself.”

“That outfit is all the rage for day time wear in Orlais.”

Shea looks at Cullen as he clutches his side.  “If a Marcher has to wear Orlesian fashion, why doesn’t the Fereldan?”

He stands up.  “Oh no!  No way!  Josephine you stay away from me!  I will sleep in this armor if you make me.”

Shea winks at him, “I’ve gotten pretty good at removing it, if I do say so myself.”  His face instantly turns red and he rubs his neck.  The women laugh and Shea returns her attention to Josephine.  “If you want me to dress like a noble, then I do it my way.”

“Fine.  But at least follow some of the trends.  If you don’t, they won’t look as favorably on us.”

She sighs.  “Is that wardrobe in my room full of Orlesian dresses?”

“Yes.  All the latest fashions.”

“Great.”  She turns back to Cullen, “Are you staying here or coming with me?”

“I was going to finish eating.”

“I’ll need your assistance for a moment.”  She makes eye contact.  He sees the pain in her eyes.

“Oh!  Right.  Yes, lead the way.” He follows her up the stairs.  Once in her room, she closes and locks the door.

“Just in case more style assassins try to barge in.”

“I would have loved to watch you try to fend them off.”

“I tried.  Shy of hitting them.  They were just so damn fast.”  She hands him his cloak.  His eyes traced her body in the dress.  “What?”

“The color is awful, but the fit...”

“Just get over here an untie this.  I can’t reach it with my back problems.” She turns her back to him and he walks up behind her.  He runs his hands up her sides.  The dress hugs her every curve.  She groans, “Stop.”

“I can’t help it.”  He kisses her exposed neck.  She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Cullen...  don’t…”  He smirks against her neck.  He unties the dress and runs his hands down her arms, pushing the top dress as he does. She pulls her arms from the sleeves.  Still standing behind her, he peels the dress down to her hips.  She turns to face him and grabs his face.  Her mouth crashes into his.  Her breasts press against to cool metal of his armor.  He wraps his arms around her and she breaks their kiss, hissing in pain.

“Damn it.  Did I hurt you?”

“Guess we know that’s still not happening for a while.”  A whine enters her voice, “It’s been two weeks.”

“I’m well aware of how long it’s been.”

She removes the dress completely and lays on her stomach on the bed.  He removers his gloves and begins doctoring her back.  “I wish we knew how long this was going to take.  Maybe we can get one of the mages to try again.  I don’t feel the magic anymore.”

He rests his hand on her back.  He’s been more sensitive to magic since they killed the demon.  He supposes it is part of the lyrium withdrawal, but he doesn’t know for sure.  He shakes his head, “It’s faint but there’s still some there.  It fades more and more every day.  Once I can’t feel it anymore, we’ll have them try.”         

“Hopefully they heal before the ball.  Otherwise there are going to be some grossed out Orlesian nobles.”

He chuckles, “Then maybe we shouldn’t rush to heal you.”

“The longer it takes to heal, the longer we…”

“It was a joke.  I’m ready for you to not be in pain anymore.  That’s more important to me.”

“More important than sex?”

He puts the stopper back in the bottle and sets in on the nightstand.  She sits up and faces him.  He kisses her.  “You know it’s never been about sex.  That’s just an added bonus.”

“Such a charmer you are.”  She kisses him and gives him a gentle shove.  “Now go eat.  I’ve gotta get all fancy and junk.”

He smirks and leaves the room.

***

The advisors are just about ready to leave.  More people have come down to eat.  Only two of them aren’t hungover.  Cole and Solas.  Josephine taps her board impatiently.  “We have a thousand things to do.  What’s taking so long?”

“Lady Ambassador!”  Cullen stifles a growl as they turn to Brandon.  He walks towards them and bows slightly.  “Waiting on my sister I see.”

“Bann Trevelyan!  I’m glad you decided to join us.  Yes, she disapproved of the outfit the stylists picked for her.  She’s been up there for ages.”

“I’m sure she’s bit out of practice.  She hasn’t been a noble for months.”  They share a laugh.

Cullen can’t stop himself from speaking up, “I can assure you she’s does quite well on her own.  She has better taste than most.”

“Of course she does.  She’s a Trevelyan after all!  Excuse my manners, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”  He extends his hand, “Bann Brandon Trevelyan of Ostwick.”

Cullen firmly grabs his hands and smirks.  Josephine told him on the way in that if he is ever introduced to some with a title, he should list all his.  “Ser Cullen Rutherford of Honnleath, Commander of the Inquisition’s forces, Former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall.”  He then releases his hand and brings it to rest on his sword.

“Impressive.  Especially for a commoner from Ferelden.  Though you needn’t have said all that.”

Cullen glares at him.  Josephine waves her hands, “No.  No.  That was almost perfect, Commander.  But don’t forget your middle name and it is ‘Commander of the Forces of the Inquisition’.  But I’m glad you at least remembered to do it.”

Silence falls over the group.  The men size each other up.  Brandon is the same height as Cullen.  But is smooth, polished.  Has probably never been in a real fight.  He has those same eyes.  Cullen will be able to read him like a book.  He smirks.  He sees Josephine sigh and turns to face the stairs.  His heart jumps into his throat.

Shea comes floating down the stairs.  He knows she’s walking but there’s an elegance to her that he’s never seen before.  Her auburn hair is tightly curled and frames her face.  Her makeup is simple, dark eyeliner and soft pink lips.  Her deep purple dress is made of some light weight fabric that flows behind her like water.  The top of the dress hugs her body.  The square neck line dips low enough to show her cleavage.  The sleeves are fitted and long, but made of a shear fabric.  As he studies her, he notices he can see the scar on her arm.  She is wearing her signet ring.  She hasn’t worn it since Adamant.  He actually thought she got rid of it.  Moira’s halla necklace hangs from her neck. 

When his eyes finally meet hers, she is blushing.  She pushes her hair behind her ear, revealing the scar on her face.  “Could you all please stop staring?”  Cullen catches Brandon’s step forward and rushes forward before him.  He offers her is arm and her blush deepens.  “Seriously.  Stop staring.”  Standing next to her, he can see that the back of her dress fully covers her back.  She takes his arm and he leads her down the rest of the stairs.

Brandon smiles at her.  “Ah!  There’s the little sister I remember!  Not the battle hardened warrior I saw last night.”  He steps forward and Cullen feels Shea squeeze his arm.  He extends his hand and she swallows hard.  Her places it in his.  He pulls her away from Cullen and hugs her.  She turns her face away as she reluctantly hugs him back.  He tightens his hug and she squeezes her eyes closed.  As soon as they part, she quickly walks back to Cullen.  When Brandon turns his back to address the other ladies, Cullen runs his gloved finger down the scar on her face.  She sighs and does the same to him.

Josephine smiles at her, “Let’s go.  We have so many places to go!”

“I’ll have my man bring the carriage around.”  Brandon walks toward the door which opens for him.  Leliana and Josephine follow him out.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m really glad I didn’t eat this morning, but… yes.”

He lightly kisses her. “You look…”

She looks into his eyes, “Yes?”

“Radiant.”

She blushes, “Oh stop.”  She looks out the door as the carriage pulls up.  “You’re coming, right?”

“I am.  I’ll be beside you the whole time.”

She smiles, “Good.”

He looks into her eyes and brushes a curl out of her face. “Are you taller?”

She pulls up the end of her dress and shows him the heeled boots she is wearing.  “Only a little.”

Josephine waves to them and they go out to the carriage.  Brandon helps Leliana and Josephine into the carriage and offers his hand to Shea.  Cullen smirks.  “You go ahead.  I’ve got it.”  He shrugs and climbs in.  Cullen helps Shea into the carriage.  Before he climbs in behind her, she sees that only two seat remain.  One of them is next to her brother.  Cullen moves past her and sits next to Brandon.  She takes the seat next to Cullen and the door closes.  She looks around and realizes Cassandra is also in the carriage.  She is in her armor and sulking.

Shea looks over to Josephine, “Why does she get to wear armor and I don’t?”

Cassandra scoffs, “She knows better.  I would have refused to come along had she refused.”

“Noted.” 

The carriage lurches forward.  Brandon gives Cullen a sideways glance.  “I’ve heard a rumor around town that some nobles have been looking for a marriage alliance with the Inquisition.”

Josephine leans forward, “Really?  I haven’t heard that yet.”

“Not just with the Inquisition though.  This marriage alliance would also ally them with House Trevelyan.”  They all look at Shea.

“Wait.  Are you talking about me?”

“Of course, dear sister.  With Emeric dead and proven to be a bastard, you are second in line.  Any and all claims the Chantry may have had on you are invalid.  You are free to take your rightful place.  Though I may be Bann, father is helping me look for suitable matches for you.  I don’t have experience in such matters, but he does.  Though he isn’t happy about it.”

“That’s… I…”

Cullen secretly takes her hand, hiding it between them and squeezes it.  “I don’t think the Inquisitor is in any position to be paraded around like a prized mabari.  She is the leader of the Inquisition and it should be her priority.”

“She can’t ignore her family obligations.  Once this is all over…”

“No.”

Brandon looks past Cullen at Shea who is looking out the window.  “What do you mean no?”

“The Commander is right.  My focus must be the Inquisition.  Nothing comes before it.  Not even family.”  She tightly squeezes Cullen’s hand.  _“Except you of course.”_

Brandon scoffs, “Shea.  Be reasonable.  If we wait too long to find a match for you, then it won’t be of any benefit to the Inquisition.  And this war won’t last forever.  Once it’s over, it will be your job to carry on the Trevelyan line.”

She bangs on the door.  “Stop the carriage!”  It slows and the door opens.  She steps out, pulling Cullen with her.  “Josie.  Where are we going?”  Josephine scribbles something on a piece of paper and hands it to her.  “We’ll meet you there.”

Cassandra leaps out of her seat, “Wait for me!”  Once Cassandra has joined them on the street, Cullen slams the carriage door.  It leaves.  Cassandra looks over at them, “What was that about?”

“What the fuck is wrong with him?!”  Shea paces along the sidewalk.  “He has some nerve to blindside me with that shit!”

Cassandra shakes her head.  “And sitting right next to Cullen too.  Do you think he knows?”

“Who gives a shit if he knows?!  That’s beside the point.  He expects me to just fall in line like Emeric always did.  Give into his every whim.  I’m not some helpless noble girl who will just say yes to everything that is asked because that is her place.”

Cassandra chuckles, “I know that feeling.”

Shea spins to face Cullen.  “Why are you so quiet?!”

Cullen takes deep breath.  “Because I’m trying to not to steal that horse over there, chase down that carriage, and beat the shit out of your brother.”

She hugs him around the waist and rest her forehead on his chin.  “Can we just ditch them?  They don’t need me right?”

Cassandra laughs.  “If only.  First stop is a meeting with the Chantry.  They came from Val Royeaux to see you personally.  Then it’s off to brunch with some noble, also requesting to meet you personally.  Then some salon.”  She takes the list from Shea.  “Then back to the villa for lunch and to gather all the girls for…”  She groans, “Dress fittings with some fancy designer that took a lot of connections to get in with, so we can’t be late.  That will take all afternoon.  Then a dinner party at someone else’s villa.  Then we’re free.”

Cullen sighs, “I hate Orlais.”  He separates from Shea and goes find them a carriage.  Shea and Cassandra stand next to each other on the sidewalk.

“So…”

“You look like you want to ask me about him.”

“Am I that obvious?”

Shea smiles, “Yes.”

“You aren’t hiding it anymore?”

“Nope.  We’re officially together.  Kissing in front of guards on patrol, holding hands, you know all the mushy stuff.”

Cassandra laughs, “I haven’t seen much of that.”

“Well, we still value our privacy, but I think his men see it more than anyone.  Kissing while I deliver a report, when I could have sent a scout.  Touching each other’s scars while walking past each other in the courtyard or the battlements.”  She smirks, “Making out on the battlements.”

“Oh!  The scar thing.  I’ve seen you do that.  I’ve never seen him do that though.  I think you sound happiest when you talk about him.”

“I am.”

“How are his withdrawals?”

“Better since we took care of his demon.”

“What?!”

Shea rubs her arm. “Oh.  Right.  You didn’t know about that.  Long story short: A desire demon was bound to him in the Fade from his days in Ferelden’s Circle.  I killed her.  The end.”

“That easy?”

“Well…”  She traces her toe along a crack in the sidewalk.  “Not easy… per se.  I got injured.”

“Where?”

Shea turns her back to Cassandra.  “Take a look.”  Cassandra pulls the back of her dress out to look down it.

“Maker’s breath.  The demon did that?”

“She used magic and was about to claw his face off.  I was lucky to be wearing armor or it would be much, much worse.”

“It looks painful.”

“It’s getting better.  The Hero of Ferelden gave us a poultice recipe to help.”

“Ok.  When we have a free moment, I want to hear all the details.  And I do mean all of them.”

“Deal.”

A carriage pulls up and Cullen hops out of it.  “Your chariot awaits.”  They laugh.

“How long did it take you to think of that?”

He smirks, “Just the ride over here.”  He helps them in and the carriage moves towards their destination.

***

The day drags on.  When the girls leave for their fittings, Cullen tries his damnedest to avoid Brandon.  He spends most of his time with Bull and Dorian.  They are already ready for this dinner their supposed to go to.  Bull tugs at the shirt he is being forced to wear.

“I don’t even understand why I’m going to this thing.”

“I told you, Amatus.  Whomever this person is wants to meet the inner circle.  There’s an open bar and food.  Food that I know you’ll like.  But you have to wear a shirt.  Now stop tugging at it, you’ll wrinkle that fabric.”

Cullen is still wearing his armor.  It’s the nicest thing he owns.  “You never told me how I should handle this.”

“The whole arranged marriage thing?  Ignore it.  That’s what I did.  That and ran away from home.”  Dorian looks around, “I get the feeling that he is so concerned about her… breeding… because he isn’t interested in the right type of people, if you get my meaning.”

Cullen scoffs, “I’m pretty sure that’s not it.”

Bull shrugs, “He was all over Dorian last night.”

“So were you, Amatus.”

Cullen pinches his nose, “I really didn’t need that mental image.”

Dorian smirks, “Thinking of me naked again are you?”

He chuckles, “There’s only one person I ever think about being naked, and it certainly isn’t you.”

A servant approaches them.  “The ladies are back.  The Lady Ambassador is ready to leave.”  They all stand and head for the door.  Shea is standing alone by the stairs.  She shifts uncomfortably. 

She sees Cullen and calls to Josephine, “Could I have a moment?  I need to freshen up.”  Josephine nods and Cullen follows Shea up the stairs.  Without even speaking, he unbuttons her dress to expose her back.  He takes off his gloves and mantle.  He sets them on the back of the couch.  He grabs the bottle off the nightstand and pulls the stopper.

“I’m going to need to make more before we turn in for the night.”

“While you do that, I can get a bath going.  It’s been one long day.”

Cullen rubs her back.  She doesn’t wince at the pressure.  “It seems to be getting better.”

“Magic still there?”

He rests his hand against her.  “You could probably have someone try tomorrow.”

“Good.”  He wipes his hands on the handkerchief and then buttons her dress.  They walk together down the stairs.  He stops.  “Forget something?”

“Yeah.  I’ll be right back.”  He turns and runs back up the stairs. 

Shea continues down the stairs and decides to wait for him. Josephine waves her forward, “I’m waiting on Cullen.”  She nods and gets into the carriage.  Shea stands in the foyer by herself.

“Waiting on someone?”

Her heart drops.  She’s alone with him.  _So much for the plan._   She doesn’t look at him, “Yes.”

“I thought they were waiting on you.”

“Commander Cullen had to run back up to get something.  I’m waiting for him.”

Brandon steps in front of her and reaches towards her.  She freezes and he lifts the halla from her chest.  “Isn’t this Moira’s?”

“It’s mine now, but yes.”

“A little strange for the Herald of Andraste to walk around wearing a halla.”  She watches his fingers trace the silver design.  “I haven’t heard from your friend in a while.  Is she alright?”

“Yes.  She found a new clan near Wycome.”

“Good for her.  I bet she’s happy there.”

“Indeed.”

He gently releases the necklace, “Is there a problem?”

“Problem?”

“Yeah.  You seem different.”

She pauses, choosing her words carefully, “A lot has happened since I left Ostwick.”

“We seem… cross with me.  Have I done something to upset you?”

She looks up at him.  He is very close to her and she has a strong desire to just lay into him right there.  She hears footsteps on the marble above her.  She can feel her salvation coming closer.  She picks her words, “You mean other than that display in the carriage this morning?”

“Hey.  I’m only doing what I’m supposed to do.  You’re an heir now.  You should act like it.”

“What if I don’t want to be?”

“You don’t really have a say in the matter.”

Her angers spikes, “Don’t I?  I could have gone home, quit after I sealed the Breach, but I didn’t.  I am needed here.  You don’t need me.”

“The hell I don’t.  You are my sister.  And the only family member who is still trying to fix this fucking world.  I need you in Ostwick.  I can’t do this alone.”

Cullen hears the argument and puts more speed into his walk.  He almost slides down the banister to get to her sooner.  “Is there a problem here?”

Brandon steps back from her.  “Just having a _private_ discussion with _my_ sister.”

“If it were private, maybe you shouldn’t be yelling at each other in the foyer.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time, _Commander_.”  He turns is attention back to Shea, “We’ll continue this later.  Alone.”  He turns on his heel and walks out the front door.

Cullen touches her back and she spins to hug him.  She throws her arms around his neck and pulls him in tight.  He holds her while her panicked shaking subsides.  She slowly releases her hold on him.  “We should probably go.  The others are waiting.”

“Are you…?”

“Yes.  I don’t like being blindsided like that.  But I’m ok.”

He takes her hand.  She leads him out to the carriages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope the length of this isn't scaring anyone off!
> 
> UPDATED July 24, 2018


	48. Holding Out For A Hero

A week goes by without any further incidents.  Josephine keeps everyone busy and The Chargers have settled into their guard rotation.  One of them offers to set up traps, but is advised against it.  Bull is building a report on Brandon, trying to figure out his motives.  The only thing he knows for certain is that Brandon will fuck anything that moves.  He’s made a pass at every single member of the Inquisition except for his sister and Cullen.  As far as he knows, none of them have taken him up on it.

As the ball approaches, Cullen has to spend more time away from Shea as he focuses on getting his men into place.  She mingles with her friends and actively avoids being caught alone.  She is sitting in her room one night when someone knocks on the door.  Krem opens the door.  “Hey.  I’m not bothering you am I?”

“Not at all!  Come in.”

He closes the door behind him.  “How’s your back?”

“Pretty good.  Cullen says I should get someone to try to heal it now.  But we’ve been so busy, I haven’t been able to sit still long enough.”

“I hear ya.  You all look like someone kicked a hornet’s nest.  Especially Josie.”  Krem looks away for a moment and then looks back to her.  “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“How did you know… that you were in love with Cullen?”

Shea is taken aback by the questions.  “Uh… it’s hard to say really.  I was attracted to him from the beginning, but the first I remember thinking that I loved him was when all that stuff with my other brother was going on.  Why?”

“Not when you realized it, but how?”

“Well… uh… I’m not sure exactly.  But one day I realized that I am… incomplete without him.  When he’s not here… it feels like something… a part of me is missing.  I would do anything for him, even at the risk of my own life.  Like in Haven.  I wanted to save the village sure, but it gave me strength to know that, even though I would almost certainly die, he’d be out the in the world.  Alive.”

Krem nods.  “That sounds like love to me.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well... I’m trying to decide if I’m in love with someone, or if it’s just a crush.  And then also what to do about it.”

Shea sits up on her knees and turns to fully face him.  “Oh really?  Who is this mystery person?”

“I probably shouldn’t say.”

She frowns, “It’s not my brother is it?”

“Gross!  No!”  He sighs, “See this shit is complicated.”

“How so?”  He motions to himself.  “You’re afraid this person won’t appreciate you for who you really are?”

“OK.  Put it this way.  If it was you or Bull I was into, I know you’d get it.  You see me as a man even without the… parts.  But if it was someone like… Cullen, I’m not sure he’d get it.  He sees me as a man, sure.  But once clothes come off…”

“I think most people would struggle with that.  Personally, as a woman interested in men, it might throw me a first.  But I’d get over it because love isn’t about sex.  If someone truly cares about you, for who you are, then the rest doesn’t matter.”

“Do you think that most people could look past this?”

“It depends on the person.  Vivienne?  No.  Never.  She’s too into herself.  Bull?  For sure!  Cullen?”  She smirks, “I’m not sure he’d even start, because to him you are a man and he’s not attracted to men, no matter how many times Dorian tries.  Sera?  Same with Cullen.  She’s likes girls and you aren’t one.  Have I named this person yet?”

Krem chuckles, “No.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you like men or women?”

“Women.  For instance, I would have tried to hit on you a few times now, if you weren’t with Cullen.”

Shea brushes her off her shoulder with the back of her hand, “You flatter me, good ser.”  She smiles at him.  “Oh come on!  Just tell me.  I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s…”  He groans.  “I like Cassandra.”

“Hmmm… how would she react?  Well at heart, she’s a romantic.  Flowers, poetry, all that junk.  I know she likes smutty novels and men.  She seems fairly open minded, but I’m honestly not sure how she’d react.”

“Should I just let it go?  Forget about the whole thing?”

“Not if you really want to try it.  Just talk to her.  She can be an excellent listener when she’s not angry.  Just be honest with her.  That’s really all you can do.  Granted, I’m not an expert.  I’ve only been in one relationship.”

“Really?  You seem so… confident… knowledgeable.”

“I get that a lot.  But I just try to live honestly.  Do what I think is best or right.  Cullen feels right.  And I’ll stay with him until it doesn’t.  Which I really don’t see happening.  If he asked… I’d marry him.  Like right now.  If he wanted to run off into the sunset and never look back, I would.  In a heartbeat.  That last one would never happen, we both care about saving this world we live in too much.  Running away together would only last so long if the world was destroyed.”

“I don’t know that I feel that way about her.  Not yet.  I hardly know her.”

“Then what are you waiting for?!  Go talk to her.  Ooooh…”  Shea jumps off the couch and goes into the adjoining study.  She comes running back in with a book.  “Give her this!  It’s smutty Orlesian poetry.”

Krem takes the book.  “Thanks, but I’m supposed to be on guard right now.”

Shea pulls him off the couch.  “I’ll be fine.  I’ll lock myself in.  Now go!  Tell me how it goes!”  She shoves Krem out of her room and closes the door.  She locks it and goes back to the couch.  She picks up the reports she was reading.  She twirls her hair around her finger as she reads and quickly flips through them.  _Boring.  Boring.  Not my problem.  New rifts.  I need to mark those on a map.  Oooh!  Dragon sighting!  That’ll be fun.  Again not my problem._

She hears a soft knock from behind her.  She looks over at her door.  They knock again.  It’s not her room door.  She looks around and her heart stops.  Brandon is standing at the study door.  “Am I bothering you?”

“Just reading some reports.”  _Shit.  Where’s Cullen?  I’m locked in here._   “Can I help you with something?”  She looks down at the reports in her hand.

He comes fully into the room and closes the study door behind him.  He sits on the couch across from her.  “I wanted to talk about last week.”

“What about it?”

“I wanted to apologize.  This whole being an heir thing is new for you.  You weren’t raised into it like I was.  I need to remember that.”

“That doesn’t change my answer.”

“I figured you’d be at least be a little happy about the prospect of having a future outside the Chantry.”

“I already have that.”

“Like I said before.  This war you’re fighting won’t last forever.  When it’s over, you should take your rightful place.”

“It could also go the other way.  We could still lose and then there would be no point.”

“Why don’t you want to come home?”

“What?”

“That’s what I’m getting from this.  You don’t want to come home.  Why is that?”

She sets the reports down next to her.  “Does it matter?”

“Of course, it matters!  I need you.  You’re the only Trevelyan who hasn’t gone nuts.  I know you are a capable leader and I could use all the help I can get to fix our father’s mistakes.  We have a lot to make up for.”

“We?”

“Our family.  We’re all that’s left.  Any Trevelyan left in the templars are probably red by now.  Like the ones I heard about in Haven.  The Chantry sisters aren’t going to help rebuild our house.  And I can’t do that alone.  The rest have sided with father.  They don’t care that some ancient asshole killed the Divine.  They still think you’re possessed or something.”

Shea can feel herself giving in.  Then her mind reminds her of Cullen.  A commoner from Ferelden.  The love of her life.  She can’t and won’t abandon him to help her brother.  “I’m sorry.  But I can’t.”

“Why not?  Don’t you care about anything other than your own goals?”

“My goals are ones that the whole of Thedas benefits from, not just you.  Or Ostwick.”

He stands moves to sit next to her.  “Shea.  Think about after this.  After you win this war.  Because I know you will.  What then?  Are you just going to keep all this going when the world doesn’t need you anymore?”

“Killing one evil bastard isn’t going to solve everything.  There are still fade rifts all over the place and only I can close them.”

“And after that?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

He scoots closer and she moves back from him.  “Then why rule this out?”

“I… have other ideas.”

“Like?”

“I… might…”

“You don’t have plans do you?”

“Nothing concrete.”

He moves closer and tries to take her hand.  She moves away.  “What is that?  Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Moving away from me.  Are you… afraid of me?”

She looks away from him.  “No.”

“Maker, you’re a horrible liar.  When did this happen?  Is this because of Emeric?”

“No.”  He grabs her by the shoulders and forces her to look at him.  She shoves him back and jumps off the couch.  Her control snaps.  He stands and reaches for her again.  “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Shea?  What…?”

She points at him.  “I mean it.  Do not touch me.”

He holds up his hands and backs away.  “Fine.  I won’t.  But I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Really?  You don’t have any idea?”

“No.  I really don’t.”

She takes a deep breath.  “Let’s take a stroll down memory lane then shall we?”

“Ok…”

“Do you remember teaching me how to play Wicked Grace?”

He sits on the couch.  “Yes.”

“Do you remember what else happened that night?”

“Yes I do.”

“You remember and yet you don’t see why I’m upset?”

He shakes his head.  “I’m really confused right now.  Why are you suddenly upset about it?  It didn’t bother you before.”

She leans against the wall.  “Before?”

“Yeah.”

“Have we talked about this before?”

He scoffs, “Talked?  We did more than talk.”

She feels like she’s about to throw up.  “I… I don’t…”

He stands take a few steps closer to her before stopping.  “You don’t remember.  Do you?”  Her mark flares and she drops to her knees.  She clutches it her chest.  “Are you ok?”

“No, I’m not fucking ok!”

“What can I do?”

“Just go!”

“This isn’t over.”

“Yes.  It is.”

“We’ll see.”  He goes back out the study door and slams it closed. 

The mark continues to flare.  Constant pain shoots up her arm.  It feels like the Breach is open again.  She can’t hold in her screams anymore.  She rolls onto her side and lets it roll out of her.  Her head throbs.  She presses the heels of her hands into her temples.  She squeezes her eyes closed and screams again.

Cullen is coming up the stairs when he hears her scream echo down the hallway.  He drops the reports in his hands and sprints towards her room.  No one outside her door.  He turns and pushes the knob.  The door is bolted from the inside.  “Damn it!”  She screams again.  He backs away from the door and throws himself into it.  It doesn’t even budge.  He backs up and charges it again.  Nothing.  He rubs his shoulder.  ”Damn it!   Shea!”

He spots a servant.  “You there!  Is there another way in this room?!”

“Not that I know of, ser.”

He growls and turns back to the door.  He tries to break it down over and over again.  His head clears for a moment.  “The balcony!”  He turns back to the servant who is just watching him.  “What’s above this room?”

“The roof, ser.”

“Take me there.”

“But…”

“Now!”

“I don’t know how to get up there, ser.”

He growls and charges down the hallway.  He rushes down the stairs, blows past the concerned faces in the main hall and goes out into the garden.  He looks around franticly.  Another scream echoes through the garden.  Bull appears beside him, “Was that Shea?”

“Bull!  Great!  Yes.  Her door is bolted and something is happening to her.  I figured I could drop down to the balcony, but I’m don’t know how to get on the roof.”  Bull looks around the garden.  He points.

“There.  The lattice won’t hold me, but I might hold you.  It might get you high enough to grab that statue.  If you can climb it, maybe you can get to the roof.  Are there are other balconies on that side?”

“No.  It’s private.  And over the water.”

“Alright.  Well, you try climbing and I’ll try breaking down the door.”

Bull runs back inside and Cullen rushes to the vine covered lattice.  Cassandra rushes over to him.  “What are you doing?”

“Shea’s in trouble.”

“What can I do?”

“I don’t know.  Now let me focus.”  He removes his gloves and his cloak.  He starts climbing the lattice. He gets halfway up and looks down at Cassandra.  “Maybe get Dorian out here.  If I fall…”

“On it.”  She disappears inside.

He reaches the top and is still a long way from the roof.  The statue Bull pointed out is a little out of reach.  If he can jump to it and hang on, he knows he can get up to the roof.  He looks down.  Everyone is looking up at him, including her brother.  That rules out one thing he thought was happening.  He sees a light go on in Sera’s face and she runs off.  He turns is attention to the statue above him.  He readies himself for the jump.  He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.  Her scream echoes again.  He opens his eyes and hears a whistle of an arrow.  It imbeds itself deep into the side of the villa.  Then he spots the rope dangling from it.  He sighs and give sit a tug.  It should hold him long enough.  He grabs hold of it and climbs.  He feels the arrow splintering.  He grabs the statue.  He bits down on the rope and yanks the arrow out of the wall.  He climbs up the face of the lion and finally reaches the roof.  He doesn’t look back but rushes across it.  He reaches the corner and looks over the edge.  He can see her through the window.  The mark is flaring and her hands are pressed over her ears.  He sees another statue and tries the rope around it.  He drops it onto the balcony and climbs down.  He calls out, “I made it!”  He hears the banging on her door stop.  He rushes to her side.  “Shea?  Love?  I’m here.”

“Make it stop!”

“Make what stop?”

She holds out her marked hand, but that’s not what he notices first.  There is blood on her hand.  He moves her hair and sees blood coming from her ear.  He rushes to the door and unbolts it.  Bull is sitting on the floor, rubbing his shoulder.  “I need Solas.”

Bull pushes himself from the floor and rushes down the hall.  Cullen leaves the door open and goes back to Shea.  He places his hand on her side, “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Brandon came to talk.  He said something.  Mark flared.  It won’t stop.  My head hurts.  Someone is laughing.”

“Laughing?”

“Like in the Fade.”

Cullen knows what this is.  He’s experienced something like it.  The mind buries its own memories to protect itself all the time.  If something is too painful or damaging, it will bury it.  In her case, all memories tied to the ones The Nightmare took, her mind buried.  He has no idea what the laughter is about, maybe some aspect of The Nightmare in the Fade?  And maybe that’s what’s amplifying this for her.  Solas kneels next to him.

“What happened?”

“Not sure.  She said was talking to her brother, then he said something.  The mark started flaring and hasn’t stopped.  Her head hurts and she hears laughing.  Her ears are bleeding.  If I had to guess, her mind is bringing old, buried memories back to the surface.  But I’ve never known it to do this.”

Solas takes her marked hand and touches it.  “I’m not sure either.  The mark is glowing brightly, but it’s not a flare.  It’s like when she opens a rift of her own.  The magic is still building, but she’s causing it.”

Cullen leans in close to her.  “Shea.  Can you hear me?”  She nods.  “The mark isn’t flaring.  You are causing it.” 

She tries to fight through the noise in her brain.  _I’m causing it?  Like with rifts?_ She closes her fist around the mark and squeezes.  Solas wraps his hands around her fist.  “That’s it, Shea.  Whatever you’re doing.  Keep doing it.”

She sighs as all mark goes calm.  She pulls her hand away from Solas and presses it against her ear.  Without the mark distracting her, the laughter is louder.  She screams again.  Solas moves around Cullen and places his hand on her forehead.  He focuses his magic and then yanks his hand away.  “That’s not good.”

“What?”

“Go get every mage in here.  And bring lyrium.” 

His mouth waters at the word, but he stands and rushes from the room.  Cassandra is waiting in the hallway.  “I need every mage here.  Dorian, Vivienne, did we bring others?  And… we need lyrium.”  She sees sweat on his forehead.

“Go back to her.  I’ll get them.”  They part ways and he goes back to Shea.

Solas looks over him.  “We need to get to her back.”

Cullen leans in.  “I know you hurt, love, but I need you to lay on your stomach.”  She slowly extends her legs and he rolls her over.  He quickly unties the back of her shirt.  The wounds are scabbed over, but the scars are forming.  Solas sighs.

“What have you been using to heal her?”

“A poultice made of elfroot concentrate, embrium concentrate, dried and ground royal elfroot and spindleweed, and sweet wine.”

“Did you say wine?”

“Yes.”

“Let me guess, Hero of Ferelden gave you that?”

“Yes.  Why?”

“It’s doing its job.  I was admiring the work.  But… we may have to open the wounds back up.  Good news there is that, once this is done, we should be able to magically heal them.”

Cassandra leads Dorian, Vivienne, and an elf called Dalish from The Chargers into her room.  “I’ve brought the mages.”

Dalish scoffs, “I’m not a mage.”

Dorian smirks, “We believe you, dear.”

Vivienne sees her back, “Are those demon claw marks?”

Cullen nods, “It’s a long story.”

Solas motions for Cullen to move.  He backs away and the mages approach.  “Her mind is being assaulted by the essence of the demon who attacked her.  It didn’t occur to me that the demon was trying to possess via physical attack.”

Dorian shakes his head, “But Shea cut her head off.”

Vivienne nods, “That’s usually the best way to kill a demon.”

Cullen punches the wall.  “Damn it!  This is my fault!  The magic in her wounds was active for weeks.  It started fading and I thought it meant she was almost healed.”

Solas sighs, “But it moved.”

“And if I was only checking her back I wouldn’t have noticed it elsewhere.”

Cassandra crosses her arms, “So what are you saving Solas?”

“That demon knew she was going to die.  At least physically.  So she attacked with her… I’m not sure what word to use here.”

Dorian sighs, “For lack of a better term, she attacked with her soul.  The very essence of her demon self.  If she had hit Cullen like she planned, he would have been killed but also instantly possessed.  Because she got Shea and the wounds weren’t fatal, she could wait.  Inside the wounds.  Then wait until her mind were weakened and…”

Vivienne summons her magic, “Then why the hell are we just standing around talking?  Let’s get that demon out of her before she becomes one!”

Cullen’s knees buckle.  Cassandra catches him before he hits the floor.  With her skills as a Seeker, she knows that this is his withdrawal.  He tries to push her off him, but she doesn’t let go.  “Let go of me.”

“Cullen.  You need to lay down.”

“No.  I need to…”  He presses on his temples.  “Ok.  Maybe I need to lay down.”  She helps him to the bed and he lays on his back.  Shea screams and his head throbs.  He gets an idea and he is reluctant to mention it.  Shea would be angry, if she survived.  A very serious choice is laid before him.  Suffer through his pain and let them attempt to save her.  Or take lyrium and save her himself.  He groans and sits up.  Cassandra tries to push him back down.  He bats her hand away.  “I… hate to even mention this.  But if I… took lyrium.  It would take me mere seconds to save her.”

“Cullen, no.  You’re so close to breaking the leash.”

“I know, but…”  Shea screams again.  “If we don’t act fast.”

“They can do it.”

“They could fail.”

“They won’t.”

“Cassandra.  We need her.  I need her.  She’s fighting but she’s losing.  The four of them are all open to possession too, just by helping her.  If I do this, then it’s over. The demon dies for good.  Shea is free and no one gets possessed.  Can you honestly tell me it’s not worth the cost?”

Cassandra looks over to the mages pumping their magic into Shea.  They are struggling.  She can feel the magic in their veins evaporating.  They will need lyrium soon themselves before they become too weak to fight against this demon.  She looks back at Cullen.  She can tell he doesn’t want to do it, but she fears he is right.

Shea screams.  She can hear him.  This scream isn’t one of pain, at least not physical pain.  She doesn’t want him to take it.  He’s come so far.  She wills herself to speak.  “Cullen.  Don’t.”

He gets off the bed and kneels near her.  “Shea.  If it will save you.”

“Not.  Worth.  It.”

“Yes, you are.”

Solas falls back disconnecting his magic from Shea.  “That demon has really dug in there.  I’m worried about damaging her mind.”  Dalish and Vivienne drop their magic and sit on the ground.

Cole appears.  He places his hand of Shea’s head.  “Let him help.  Singing, safe, strong.  You can help him after.”

Dorian fights to hang on.  He grinds his teeth together.  Cassandra rushes to him.  “You need to stop.”

“I’ve.  Almost.  Got.  It.”

“If you push any harder, you’ll burn up everything you have.  You will die or become possessed.  Stop on your own or I will stop you.”

He huffs and lets his magic fall away.  He sits down on the floor and rest his elbows on his knee and his face in his hands.  “I was so close.  I could feel it in there.  She’s enjoying this.  Torturing her mind.”

Cole looks back at Cullen.  “You can help.  If you don’t, she won’t be her.”

He makes up his mind.  Shea whimpers, “No.  Don’t.”

“I’m sorry, love.  We’re out of options.”  He looks around.  Cassandra didn’t bring any with her when she came back with the mages.  He closes his eyes.  He can hear it.  Someone is that room has some.  “Who has it?”

Dorian reaches into the pouch on his belt.  He looks up at Cullen and then looks away.  He holds it up.  Cullen snatches it from him.  His hand shakes.  Cassandra leaves the room, she can’t watch him do it.  He looks at the mages, “You all should go too.” 

Vivienne is the first to stand.  “For what it’s worth, I think what you’re doing is… romantic.”  She leaves.

Dalish stands, “I will tell Bull what happened.”  She leaves.

Solas stands and places his hand on Cullen’s arm.  He leaves without speaking.

Dorian stands and doesn’t look at him.  “After everything you’ve done.  Everything you’ve sacrificed to be free, this demon has finally won.  You might kill her for good this time, but she has done her damage.  I hope you both can live with it.  I’ll… be around… if you need me.”  He walks out of the room and closes the door behind him.

Cole looks up at Cullen.  “If you are going to help, you should do it now.”  He disappears.

Cullen looks at the vial in his hand.  He looks down at Shea.  She has been saying no on loop.  “I’m sorry.”  He pulls the cork and downs it.  His fist closes around the vial.  His veins ignite as the lyrium surges though his system.  All pain in his head is gone.  He feels strong.  He crushes the vial in his hand and drops the bloody shards on the floor.  He opens his eyes.  His vision is clearer, shaper.  He kneels beside her and places his hand on her back.

She feels the tug on her brain.  Something is being pulled loose slowly unraveling and moving down her spine.  The laughter fades and her ears stop ringing.  The pain in her head vanishes.  She relaxes against the floor.  Whatever came loose travels through her neck and into her back.  Searing pain radiates from the claw marks.  She cries out and tries to move, but she is pinned to the floor.  Then pain travels across her wounds to the center of her back.  The pressure there pulls away and her pain is gone.

She opens her eyes and looks at Cullen.  In his hand is an angry purple ball of light.  He stares at it for a moment before slowly closing his fist around it.  He squeezes his fist tight and purple dust falls from his hand onto the floor.  He opens his hand and brushes off the dust on it.  He looks over at her.  His eyes are different.  Darker.  More amber than honey.

“Are you alright?”  His voice sounds strange.  Distant.  Cold.  She feels tears fall from her eyes.  He reaches out and wipes them away.  His hands are much colder than normal.  “Shea?  Are you alright?”  She nods.  “Good.  I’ll go get someone to heal your wounds.  It shouldn’t take much.”  She nods.  He brushes his finger down her scar and stands.  He opens the door and walks into the hall.  Her chest heaves.  She presses her forehead into the floor.

Cullen walks into the dining room.  They all look at him.  “She’s fine.  The demon is dead.”  They all sigh in relief.  “I could use a mage though.  To heal the wounds on her back, now that they are clear of magic.”  Solas stands and walks past him.  “Thank you, Solas.”

Cassandra pushes back form the table and walks past him.  “I’m glad she’s alright.  I’m going to bed.”

He notices that several people won’t look at him.  Cassandra, Solas, Dorian, Bull, Vivienne, and Varric.  Brandon walks up to him and extends his hand.  Cullen shakes it. “Thank you for saving her.  I don’t know what happened.  But thank you.”

“I had to be done.  We need her.”

Dorian shoves back from the table and storms off.  Bull follows after him.  Brandon announces that he is also retiring for the night.  Cullen stands there and watches everyone leave.  Some mumble good night to him, but most just brush past him.  Leliana stops in front of him.  “Did you…”  He nods.  “Oh Cullen.  I’m so sorry it came to that.”

“Me too.”  She pats him on the arm and goes past him.  He stands there alone.  He rubs his face and turns to go back upstairs.  He sees Solas leave their room and close the door.  He pauses when he sees Cullen approaching.  “Let me guess.  She doesn’t want me in there?”

“How…?”

“I’m good at reading people.  You didn’t want to have to tell me.  And I’ve been getting that ‘I don’t want to be around him’ look since I saved her.”  Solas looks away from him.  “I’ve been getting that a lot too.”

“I apologize.  It’s hard to look at you.”

“I know.  Thank you healing her.”

Solas nods and quickly moves down the hallway.  Cullen stands at their door.  If it’s not locked, he’ll go in.  If it is, then she really doesn’t want to see him.  He isn’t numb.  He can feel and the idea that she doesn’t want to look at him after he did this for her, cuts him deep.  He takes a deep breath and pushes on the door.  It opens.  He sighs and walks into the darkened room.  Shea is curled up on the bed.  She looks to be asleep.  He removes his armor and sets it on the couch.  He pulls his comfortable clothes from his trunk and puts them on.  He walks over to the bed and looks down at her.  She is on the far edge of the bed.  Her back to the center.  Her legs are pulled up to her chest and she’s hugging them.  He brushes hair from her face.  He sighs and goes to the other side of the bed.  He pulls back the covers and lays down.  He won’t be able to sleep, because of the lyrium humming through him, but he wants to be close to her, even if she doesn’t want to be close to him.

He stares at the ceiling and listens to her breathe.  He glances over and sees her new scars, fully healed.  He reaches over and traces each one with his finger.  He moves his hand away and return his stare to the ceiling.  He knows his mind should be running around in circles, but it’s not.  It is completely calm.  Not a single thought sticks out.  Just silence save the song coursing through his veins.  He hears her sniffle.  “You’re awake.   Aren’t you?”

“Solas didn’t give you the message.”

“He did.  But I figured if you meant it, you would have locked the door.”  She rolls over to face him.  His gaze is fixed on the ceiling.  “Are you…?”

“Physically?  Yes.”

“And your mind?”

“I’ve remembered a lot more about my life after The Nightmare made me forget.  But otherwise fine.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“I won’t pressure you.  But I am still here.”

She sits up on her knees and looks down at him.  “Are you though?”

He looks over at her.  “Yes.  I still love you.  I still worry about you.”

“You sound…”

“I know.  That will fade.  The song is fresh and blocks my thoughts.  But I’m still me.”

She touches his hand.  “You’re cold.”

“Again.  That will fade.  It’s still fresh.”

“Why?  Why would you…?”

He sits up.  “I did it for you.  To save you from _my_ demon.”  She runs her finger down his scar and he closes his eyes.  “This is the last time.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.  I don’t like how I feel.  I don’t like being bound this way.  I don’t like how everyone is looking at me.  Especially you.”

“How am I looking at you?”

He opens his eyes, “Like you don’t know me.  Like you are afraid of me.  Like you don’t want to look at me any longer than you have to.”  She looks away. “See what I mean.”  He lays back down.  “You’ve had a long day.  You should get some sleep.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Eventually.  The withdrawals will be much worse once this wears off.”

“Do you know when?”

“I imagine we’ll back at Skyhold.”

“So, you’ll be like this until then?”

“No.  Maybe for a few days, but then I’ll be normal.  At least, mostly normal.”  She lays down next to him.  He opens his arms and she lays her head on his chest.  He pulls her in close and runs his finger down her scar.  “Get some rest.”  She twirls his chest hair and closes her eyes.  He stares at the ceiling and listens to her breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I broke my own heart writing this chapter btw! Thanks for reading!
> 
> UPDATED July 24, 2018


	49. I Wanna Dance With Somebody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only going to be one today. Sorry! Life has gotten in the way and I feel writer's block coming on! DX Here's hoping it passes!
> 
> *** time/pov shift

When she opens her eyes the next morning, he is still just staring at the ceiling.  His fingers play with the ends of her hair.  When he feels her move, he looks down at her.  “Morning.”  His voice still sounds strange.  She rolls onto her side and stretches.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep so soundly.”

“I think that’s the first time in a long time that I’ve been able to sleep without pain.”

“Or nightmares.”

She looks into his eyes.  They are still darker than normal, but bags have formed below them.  “Did you sleep at all?”

He shakes his head, “I can’t.  Not that I didn’t want to.  Far from it.  But when it’s this fresh…”

“Oh.”  She rubs the sleep from her eyes.  “What did you do all night?”

“Watched you and zoned out mostly.  It sort of feels like sleeping with your eyes open.  Ii not may look like it, but I feel… rested.”

“I’m…”  She looks away from him.  “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.”  He sits up.  “That demon is finally and permanently dead.  No returning to the fade.  No reforming later.  It’s over.  More importantly you’re alive and well.  I think it was worth it.”

“So, what does this mean for you?”

He takes her hand and plays with her fingers.  “The plan stays the same.  It’ll just be harder now.  The withdrawals will be much worse once this wears off.”

“Are you in danger?”

“I always was.”

“You know what I mean.”

He sighs, “I don’t want to upset you, but yes.  You never saw the bad days.  I was past those before you joined us.  I’m starting over now.  Like I never tried to begin with.  It would be easier to keep taking it, but I don’t want to.”

“You passing out after sparring and cracking your head open wasn’t a bad day?”

“It was, but not as bad as when I first stopped.”

She sighs.  “I’m sorry that I…”

“Hey.”  He takes her face in his hands.  “This was my choice.  My failure.  I was the one healing you and I should have known.  If I was more aware, then this never would have happened.”

She places her hands over his.  “We can pass blame back and forth all day long.  It doesn’t change what happened.”

“How’s your head?”

“I’m having a hard time figuring out what was real last night.  And… I need to talk to Brandon.”

“Why?”

“To see if I really remembered things last night.”

He looks away thinking for a moment and then looks back at her.  “Your door was locked from the inside.  A servant said that there it was the only way in your room.  Brandon was in the garden with everyone else when I climbed to the roof.”

“You climbed to the roof?”

A tiny smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, “It was the only way to get in.”  He points to the window, the rope is still hanging from a statue.

“That was very heroic of you.”

He shrugs, “I did a lot of heroic things last night.”

She looks away from him, “Last night.  Brandon came in through that study door.  If there’s only one way in here, how did he do that?”

“Then I guess you need to talk to him.”

She shakes her head.  “You are very calm about that.”

“Should I be angry then?  Storm around the room, screaming at you not to?  We’ve already discussed your need to talk to him about your shared past.  I’ve already expressed my concerns.  My offer to be there still stands.  If this is something you truly want to do, who am I to stop you?”  She pats his hand and climbs off the bed.  “Did I say something wrong?  Again?”

She opens the wardrobe and flips through the dresses inside.  “You keep saying you feel things.  You’re still you.  But when you act and say things like that…  That doesn’t sound like the Cullen I know.”  She pulls out a light blue dress.  It’s simple, but it’ll do for staying in the villa all day.  With her back to him, she changes into it.  The dress is cut very low in the back and the neckline in front traces her collarbone.  The back of it trails across the floor in a short train and it is sleeveless.  She looks at herself in the mirror to fix her hair

“Do you… want me to go?  At least until the stronger effects have worn off.  Because I can… if that’s easier for you.”

She looks over her shoulder at him.  She ties the strap of her dress around the back of her neck.  “What do you want?”

“I want you to be comfortable.  And if… I’m a stranger to you now, then maybe I should keep my distance for a few days.”  Her heart sinks.  It hurts her heart that she is actually considering his offer.  Normally she’d instantly say no and scold him for even suggesting it.  He takes her hesitation as an answer.  He gathers his armor and puts it in his trunk.  “My room is across this maze of a place.  Since everyone feels like you do, I’ll be there if you need me” He picks up the trunk.  She remembers he had to drag it in here before and with armor in the trunk it’s heavier now.  She moves to open the door for him.  She can’t bring herself to look at him.  This time it’s because of her own shame, not because of how different he is.  He pauses at the threshold and leans over to her.  He presses his lips against her cheek and leaves.

She opts not to wear shoes.  She’s staying inside all day, so why bother.  She follows him out closing the door behind her.  She watches him walk down the hallway.  He stops and turns towards another hallway.  He looks at her then quickly looks away and continues on his way.  The look on his face rips her apart.  Though his features are stiff, she can see he’s still in there and he feels rejected.  Abandoned.  Wounded.  She picks up the hem of her dress and runs after him. 

He hears her bare feet slap against the floor.  The humming in his veins echoes the humming in his heart as he listens to her run.  His body is moving automatically down the hallway.  She could be running anywhere.  He shouldn’t be hoping that she’s running to him if just looking at him right now causes her pain.  He hears her feet slide on the marble as she makes the corner.  He stops walking and sets the trunk down.  He turns around in time to catch her as hits him full speed.  She wraps her arms around his neck.

“Don’t leave.  I’m sorry.  I…”  He presses his palms into her back.  He rests his nose against her neck and sighs.  She kisses the side of his face.  “I shouldn’t have let you… I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not leaving.  Just… relocating.”  She tightens her hold on him.  “But if you want me to stay with you… I will.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes.  But if looking at me right now constantly reminds of what I did, then maybe I shouldn’t.”

“If you… I don’t…”

He lessens his grip on her and lowers her to stand on the ground.  She backs away and he lifts her chin.  “I’ll stay in your room if that’s what you really want.”  She nods.  He turns and picks up his trunk.  “Then lead the way.”  He follows her back to her room.  She opens the door and he sets the trunk down inside.  As soon as his hands are free, she throws herself around him again.  She kisses the front of his neck.

“I hate myself for even thinking… even allowing…”  He grabs her face and his lips crash into hers.  Her fists grab his shirt.  He feels like a different person.  His kiss is different.  She doesn’t know why it feels that way, but it does.  He pulls back from her.

“I should… I have some work to do.”  He kisses her again and starts pulling his armor out of the trunk.  She touches his shoulder.

“Talk to me.”

“I need to… get some of this energy out.”

“How can I help?”

He smirks, “You can’t.  Unless you’re secretly a mage.”

“Nope.  Still just me.”

“I need to use my abilities.  The more I use, the faster I power through this lyrium high.  Otherwise, I’m going to be this man you don’t like for a lot longer.  The problem is finding a mage who is willing to be subjected to this.”

“You get dressed.  I’ll go talk to Dorian.”  She kisses him quickly and leaves to find him.

***

Shea sits on a bench in the garden.  Cassandra is seated beside her.  For once, she’s not in armor.  She’s wearing pants, boots, and a blousy, tucked in green shirt.  “Did it tell you I like this on you?”

“No.  I could never pull of a dress like you can.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Cassandra.  I could help for find one more your style… if you want.”

“Girl time?  I’d rather hit things.”

Shea laughs, the wind rustling the light blue fabric, “Oh me too!  Always have, always will.  Trust me, a dress is not my first choice, but Josie has made it my only choice.”

Cullen and Dorian stand across from each other in the garden.  “I’d like to set up some ground rules, if that’s alright.”

“Seeing as you didn’t bring weapons to a sparring match, I assume you’re using your templar abilities.”

“Yes, no physical attacks, and I give you my word not to do any permanent damage.”

Dorian smirks, “I’m not that fragile, darling.”

“I would appreciate the same courtesy.”

“So, no fire then?”

“I’m sure our host would appreciate that as well.”

“I think I can handle that.  Any other requests?”

Cullen smirks, “Don’t hold back.”

Dorian twirls the staff from his back.  “I don’t intend to.”

Shea and Cassandra watch them fight.  Dorian sends an energy barrage of lighting towards Cullen.  He waves his hands in front of him and the spell sparks out, fizzling weakly past him.  Dorian sends one spell after another at Cullen, who counters and dissolves every single one.  Shea has seen Dorian fight, she knows he’s just warming up.  Saving his more powerful magic for later.  Purple haze rises from the ground.  Cullen tries to cancel it as before but he can’t.  He starts coughing on it.  He holds his breath and rolls through it to a clear space.  The haze shifts and follows him.  He growls softly. 

He knows he can’t let his instincts take over.  He doesn’t want to hurt Dorian, which is part of the problem.  He takes deep breath of clear air and lets the haze envelope him.   While inside, he coats himself in magic resistance.  He can feel the haze trying to snake its way into his mind, but it can’t get past the magic armor.  He rushes forward out of the haze and makes eye contact with Dorian.

“Vishante kaffas!”  The haze vanishes.  Dorian puts a barrier around himself to counter Cullen’s mental attack.  They circle each other.  Cullen knows he can dispel the barrier, but he wants to drag this fight out.  To give Dorian a chance, he drops his protection.  The air becomes electrified.  Cullen waits feeling the energy build, then takes a rolling leap to the side as lightning strikes the ground.  Taking advantage of his doge, Dorian shoots a ball of purple light that hits Cullen in the chest.  He feels the magic pulsing inside of him.  He feels like it could explode at any moment.  He has to close his eyes to focus on it.  He places his hand on his chest and draws the magic out.

Dorian is priming another spell when Cullen does this.  He’s never seen anyone do that before.  Cullen holds the purple light in his hand and throws it back at Dorian.  He is forced to deactivate his own spell.  Since fire is against the rules, he’s running out of ideas.  The glow from Shea’s mark catches his eye and he gets an idea.  Cullen is close to him.  Dorian stands up straight, rises two fingers, and places them between his eyes.  A concussive wave of magic knocks Cullen back.  While Cullen is down, he digs into his necromancer bag of tricks.  Three purple spirits appear behind him. 

Cullen jumps off the ground.  Dorian points to Cullen and the spirits drift towards him.  He dispels them quickly as well as the series of lightning sent his way.  He’s starting to feel a little tried.  Time to end it.  Dorian is mid-spell when he feels his magic ebb, he pushes through it sending tiny balls of electricity that are drawn to Cullen.  He has to disengage his hold on Dorian’s magic to get rid of them.  He needs to get in close, to touch him.  If he can manage that, the fight is over.  He advances on Dorian as he spins his staff sending rapid attacks toward Cullen who either dodges by rolling forward or waves his hand to make them frizzle out.  He makes one final push.  He grabs Dorian by the shoulder and places his hand on Dorian forehead.  Dorian drops his staff.  All magic leaves his body and he sinks to his knees.  Cullen quickly removes his hand and gives him his magic back.  He holds out his hand to help Dorian up.  He accepts and they stand in front of each other both breathing heavily.

“If templars in Minrathous acted more like that, the Magisters would be shaking in their boots.  That last one…”

“I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No.  Should I have been worried?”

“Not with me.  But should any other templar attempt that on you.  Do everything you physically can to escape their hold.  You’d be blocked from your magic for days.  And if they take it a step further…”

Dorian backs away from him.  “Did you just… perform part of the…”

Cullen holds up his hands.  “Of course not!  I would never do that to you or any mage!  Tranquility is nothing to toy with.  I would never put you in danger of that.  Never!”

“But is that part of it?”

“No.  That ability is not part of it.  It doesn’t affect your connection to the fade, just your ability to use the lyrium in your blood.  Like I said, if I had completed it, you wouldn’t have magic for a few days, but it would wear off.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“You’re my friend. I trust you.  I hope you’d trust me enough to know I’d never…”

Dorian shakes his head.  “You’re different now.  I can’t be too sure.  If Shea hadn’t begged me, told me this would help you, I wouldn’t be here.”  Cullen looks over at her.  “Has it?  Helped I mean?”

“I think so.  The humming is quieter.  Do I seem more… normal?”

“A little.”

“Then it helped.”

“I should go.  I’m feeling very tired suddenly.”

Cullen takes off his glove and holds out his hand, “I can help with that.”

“How?”

“Do you trust me?”  Dorian slaps his hand down in Cullen’s.  He closes his eyes and wraps his fingers around Dorian’s hand.  They all watch as the veins in Cullen’s hand glow blue.  Dorian closes his eyes and braces himself against Cullen shoulder with his free hand.  Shea and Cassandra stand and go over to them.  They watch Dorian’s veins start to glow.   The glow travels up his arm and disappears.  Cullen releases Dorian’s hand and supports him as the effect takes hold.  Dorian opens his eyes.

“What was that?”

Cassandra looks at Cullen, “Where did you learn to do that?”

He look over at her, “You.  It’s like the reverse of one of the Seeker powers. But instead of pulling the lyrium out, I gave him some of mine.”

Dorian smirks, “That might be my new favorite way to take lyrium.”  He fans himself.  “I think I need to be alone for a bit.”  He winks at Cullen, “Unless you care to join me?”

Cullen chuckles, “In your dreams, mage.”

Dorian chuckles, “Let’s hope the Fade is kind again to me tonight.”  He winks and saunters off.

Cullen moves to a bench and sits down.  Shea sits next to him.  “So, that helped?”

He nods, “Especially that transfer thing.  I should have probably done that to begin with.”

“You sound better.”

“Good.”  He looks over at her.  His eyes aren’t as dark anymore, but they are still more amber than honey.  He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Headache?”

“Not exactly.”

Cassandra excuses herself and quickly walks away.  Shea notices and takes it as a bad sign.  “Cullen?”

He licks his lips.  “I think I went a little over board.”

“How so?”

“Well… It’s hard to explain, but... the only thing I can equate it to is how you feel after you’ve been fighting all day, closing rifts, and then doing it all again without sleeping.  Your body craves rest.  It demands it.  Like water or food to someone who’s starving.  The body and mind become consumed with it.    It’s the same with lyrium.  Using a little at a time, is fine.  If you use too much at once, your body is suddenly left lacking.  Starving.  The song is deafening and drowns out everything.”

“And is that happening now?”

“Not yet.  But I’m so out of practice that… you know how your muscles get sore after a long day of fighting when you’ve been just sitting around before that?”  She nods.  “That’s what I’m feeling now.  These are muscles I haven’t really used in a long time.  So, in a way, I’m sore.  But instead of my muscles.”  He takes her hand with the hand that doesn’t have a glove on it.  He laces his fingers in hers.

“You’re freezing.”

“Close your eyes.  What do you feel?”

She closes her eyes.  His pulse is steady, but feels thick and heavy.  Like the blood is being slowed down.  The veins in his hand are hard.  “What is that?”

“It’s the lyrium.   It hasn’t… settled yet.  If I had been on it this whole time, it would have settled into my muscles and nerves last night.  Since it had been a while, it’s going to take time to… absorb.  Then I’ll be regular old me… until the withdrawal starts.”

“And you said that would be after we got back to Skyhold?”

“It’s my best guess.  After today, it could be sooner.  This part of the process though… it might be settled in by tomorrow night.  But again, it’s just a guess.”

“Does it hurt?”

He chuckles, “No.  You may not like hearing this, but it’s actually quite relaxing.  Almost like getting a full body massage.”  He blinks slowly. “I should probably take a nap.  That fight took a lot out of me.”  He stands and she stands with him.  “Come get me at lunch?  I’m going to need to eat something.”

“I’ll see you later then.”  He kisses her forehead and goes into the house.  She watches him leave.  Once he’s out of sight, she sits back down on the bench and sighs.  She is so worried about him.  If taking lyrium is relaxing, then not taking it must be hell.  Though he is slowly returning to the man she knew, she knows the pain isn’t far behind him.  She has to be strong for him when the time comes.  He has always been there for her when she is hurting, she can do no different.  She still feels guilty for nearly turning away from him.  She will not let herself do that again, unless that’s what he wants.

She lays down on the bench and watches the clouds and birds move overhead.  It is beautiful day.  It is cool but not uncomfortable.  She wonders what springs in Orlais are like.  The Empress probably has a Spring Palace too.  Winter is very nearly over, so this would be the last party of the season at the Winter Palace.  It is sure to be eventful. 

Krem walks up to her and sets the book by her head.  She sits up and grabs his hand as he starts to walk away.  “Hey!  What happened?”

“I couldn’t do it.”  She pulls on his arm and makes him sit.

“What happened?”

“Well… I had the book and was walking up to her and then chickened out.  Then you started screaming, so I never got the chance to build my nerve up again.”

“I’m sorry.  It seems I’m ruining everything lately.”

“Nah.  I think it’s for the best.  I don’t think I’m her type.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know.  Just a vibe I get when she talks to other men.  Rugged men.”

“You’re plenty rugged!  I’ve seen you push Bull back with a shield.  That’s no small feat.”

He throws his hands up, “Just forget it.  I don’t know what I’m doing.  Even if I did talk to her, I’d probably screw it up.”

Shea sighs, “You shouldn’t give up.  And maybe she isn’t right for.  You’ll find someone.”

“Thanks.”  He stands and starts to leave.

“Hey!  Wait!”  Shea grabs the book and hops off the bench, “Keep it.  You should read it.  Get some ideas.  I don’t know.”

Krem takes the book.  “Thanks.”  He tucks the book under his and leaves.  Shea sits back down on the bench and resumes watching the clouds.  A large shadow blocks her view.  She looks towards him and sits up.  He’s glaring at her.

“Bull?  Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You let Dorian fight Cullen?”

“Yes.  Why?”

“Have you seen him?”

“Which him?”

“Dorian.”

“No, why?”  He picks her up and flings her over his shoulder.  “Hey!  I can walk you know!”  He carries her up the stairs and into Dorian’s room.  He plops her down on the couch.  “What am I… oh Maker!”  She covers her eyes, but it’s too late.  She’s seen everything.  Dorian is fully naked and dancing with an enchanted suit of armor.  Her face is hot and red.  Dorian is officially the second man she’s seen naked.

“He’s been dancing with that thing all morning.”

“But… why is he naked?!”

Bull shrugs, “No idea.  Probably because he likes being naked more than he likes clothes.”

“And what exactly am I supposed to do about this?”

He roars laughing, “Nothing.  I just wanted to see the look on your face.  He’s on a lyrium high, nothing can be done but to let it run its course.”

“Damn it, Bull!”

“What you act as if… oh… oops.  I forgot you and your commander haven’t given it to each other yet.  Welp!  That’s what a naked man looks like.  Enjoy!”  He leaves her there.

“Bull!  Bull!  Damn it!”  Dorian looks over at her.  She still has her hands pressed into her eyes.

“Oh!  It appears we have an audience!  Or are you wanting to cut in?”  _Oh Maker no.  This will end in badly._   He grabs her hand from her face and pulls her off the couch.  The enchanted armor sits down on the couch.  Her eyes are squeezes closed.  He takes her other hand.  “Vivienne tells me you are an excellent dancer.  Care to show me what you can do?”

“This is cruel and unusual punishment.  I didn’t even do anything.” 

He places his hand at the small of her back and pulls her against him.  “You can’t dance with your eyes closed, my dear.”

“Could you at least put on pants?”

“Nonsense!  Who needs clothes?!  Now open your eyes and stop spoiling the fun!”  She sighs and opens her eyes.  _Just look at his face.  Just his face.  Ignore everything else._   “Now.  Let’s dance!”  He twirls his finger and music starts playing from somewhere.  She recognizes the song and thus knows the dance he wants to do.  She rolls her eyes.  He would pick something the required being pressed against each other.  He slides his hand up her bareback and presses her flat against him.

She sighs, “Ok fine.”  She places her hand on the back of his neck and places her other hand in his.

“Remember, my dear, if light passes between us at any point, we’ll be the laughing stock of the Winter Palace for ages to come.”

“I’m aware.”

She’s never actually done this dance.  She watched someone do it once.  It was far too scandalous for Marcher society.  In fact, after the party she saw it at, it was banned from the courts.  She wouldn’t need to do much.  The man did all the work in this dance.  She is just his arm candy.  Just follow his lead, not matter how sexual it looks, and you are doing the dance correctly. _Maker I hope no one walks in.  Especially Cullen._   Honestly, if the dance had anymore sexual energy put into it, the dancers would be naked and actively saving sex on the dance floor.  The dance is over before she even realizes it.  He ends it by dipping her so low her hair brushes the floor.

He kisses her throat and pulls her back to a standing position.  They are winded and sweating.  “My dear, if I was remotely interested in you, I take you right here.”

She blushes and pulls her hand free to cover her face.  “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Care to learn a dance we do in Tevinter?  I’ll skip the sex and blood part of it.”

She shakes her head.  “I’m good thanks.”

“I can’t wait to see you dance at the Winter Palace.  Cullen’s going to have to fight to keep men away from you.”

“Hopefully, that won’t be on my dance card.”

“Too bad.  Just imagine the number of lovers you could find.”

“One is enough for me.”

They are still pressed together.  “I would love another dance.  That hunk of tin isn’t nearly as good a dance partner.”  The hand on her back traces one of her scars.  A chill runs up her spine.  Her mind is telling her to back away, run away.  This is dangerous territory.  But she feels her body press against him.  “I’ll take that as a yes.”  He twirls his finger and the song changes.  She blames Cullen for this really.  Dancing never turned her on.  Just being touched by an attractive man never turned her on.  But as she and Dorian dance pressed against each other, feeling his muscles under her fingers, his hips grinding against hers, his firm hold on her, she finds herself thinking all kinds of impure things.  And not just about Cullen.  She shocks herself by picturing what sex with Dorian would be like.

The second dance ends and their faces are a breath apart.  She wants to kiss him, but she fights the urge.  She loves Cullen.  She is with Cullen.  Dorian is not interested in women.  She thanks the Maker for that.  She doesn’t know or trust herself right now.  If he makes a move on her, she can’t say for certain if she’d resist.  She trembles in his arms.  He smirks and his moustache twitches.  “Well, this has taken a turn.”

“Yep.”

His smile broadens, “Shall I close the distance them?”  Her eyes go wide.  _Did he just ask if I wanted him to kiss me?_   _Andraste preserve me.  What have I gotten myself into?_ She doesn’t answer him, doesn’t move.  Her mind is screaming no, but her mouth waters.  Her grip tightens around him and he shakes his head.  “I think that desire demon has left her mark on you after all.”  He pushes back from her and she breathes a sigh of relief.  The distance from him clears her head.  So long as she doesn’t look at anything below the neck, she’ll be fine.  His words finally register.

“Wait.  What?”

He picks up a glass of wine and sits on the couch crossing his legs.  “That demon from last night.  Cullen’s desire demon.  She was messing with your mind last night.  I was worried something might be changed about you even if we managed to stop the possession.  She was at it for a long time before Cullen even heard you.”

She takes his wine glass and downs it.  He smirks and grabs another glass and the wine bottle on his little table.  He pours himself a new glass and fills hers.  “So… I’ve been altered?”

“Not altered necessarily.  We all have desires.  That’s why desire demons are so powerful.  Based on the exchange we just had, I’d say your sexual desires are stronger than before.  Which isn’t a bad thing if you can control yourself.”

“I’m not sure how to feel about that.”  She takes a few more sips of wine.

“If you were single, you’d be free to have sex with whomever you desired.  Even then you still could, but he would be furious if he ever found out.”

She smirks, “Or I could just have sex with him.”

“Indeed you can. Since we’re on the subject, have you two…?”  She looks away and drinks more wine.  “You have!  Oh I knew it!”

“We haven’t told anyone.”

“So…?  How was it?”

She drinks more wine and blushes, “Do we really need to talk about this?”

“Ok.  Ok.  Ok.  Just say when.”  He set his glasses down and puts his hand together.  He slowly starts moving them apart.  It takes her a while to get it and then she covers her face.

“Dorian!  I’m not telling you that!”

“Oh come on!  I’m dying to know.”

“I… I need to go…”

He stops her and makes her sit.  “Fine.  We don’t to talk about _him_.  What about you?  How was it for you?”

“It was… oh Maker I don’t even have words to…”  She drinks her wine.  “He was… it was…”

“That good huh?”

“Now I really need to go.”

“What why?  We were just getting to the good stuff.”

She smirks.  “I do believe it’s almost lunch time.”  She winks at him, finishes her wine, and leaves his room.

***

Cullen is asleep when she peeks into her room.  She remembers to bring food with her and some water.  But that isn’t her primary objective.  Dorian got her all relied up with their dancing and she has one thought on her mind.  He has pulled the curtains on the windows closed so the room is almost completely dark.  She sets the silver tray with its silver domed cover on the couch so it won’t make any noise.  She unties the strap around her neck and lets the dress fall to the floor.  When she goes to remove her smallclothes, she realizes she never put any on.

He is laying on his back in the center of the bed.  She slowly pulls the covers down past his knees.  She climbs up on the foot of the bed.  She straddles his legs and crawls over him on her hands and knees.  She watches him sleep while hovering above him.  His eyes aren’t moving behind his lids, he isn’t saying anything.  He looks so peaceful.  She bends down and kisses him.  She breathes against his lips, “Cullen.”  She kisses him a little longer.  “Cullen.” 

His eyes flutter open.  “Shea?  What time is it?”

“It’s lunch time.”  She kisses him and he kisses back.  He rubs the sleep from his eyes as they adjust to the darkness of the room.  He blinks and his eyes meet hers.  The oceans of her eyes burn into his.  The look sends electricity humming through his body.  The lyrium in his blood echoes it back to him.  When she kisses him again, her tongue darts into his mouth.  His body reacts before his sleep deprived mind can catch up.  He grabs her face pressing harder into her kiss.  She pulls at his shirt and he sits up.  She pulls it off him and resumes kissing him.

The fire in her makes his mind fall away.  It goes completely quiet.  Blue fire pulses through his veins.  His lips presses harder into hers.  His tongue explores her mouth tasting the wine.  She feel his temperature skyrocket.  He tears his mouth away from hers shoves her chin up so he can better kiss her neck.

A little voice in the back of her head points out that he feels different.  His kiss is different, his touch, his warmth.  His whole body feels like a stranger’s.  Yet, instead of fear, she feels lust for him.  This is a templar, not the commander.  She grids her hips against him.  He unties the front of his pants and pushes them and his smallclothes down enough to free his length.  He grabs her hips and lifts her.  He lines her up and sets her down on top of him.  She inhales sharply and moans.  He lays back still holding her hips.  He thrusts up and moves her hips.  She grabs his arms and drops her head forward.  His nails dig into her hips as he moves her on him.  He smirks watching her breasts bounce.  Spasms roll through her and she places her hands on his chest.  He makes her ride him, controlling her movements with his hands.  Slow and deep.

She rocks her hips and pulls his hands away.  She pins his hands above his head.  She rides him slowly.  Feeling every inch of him moving inside her.  Her moans of pleasure are loud and frequent.  He closes his eyes, enjoying her motion in combination with the singing of the lyrium in his veins.  She laces her fingers with his as she pins him down.  He thrusts his hips up and she cries out, throwing her head back.  He repeats the action and her hands squeeze his as she climaxes again.

He pulls his hands from hers and wraps them around her back.  Her fingers grip the sheets and he kisses her.  They thrust and grind together as they kiss.  He sits up with her in his arms.  She wraps her legs around him.  He threads his fingers into her hair and pulls her head back.  He kisses her neck.  She grips his shoulders as they rock against each other.  His pulse increases and his breathing becomes shallow.  His skin is hot but just beneath the surface, she can feel the cold lyrium flow through him.

He shifts their position again, rolling her onto her back.  He sits back on his knees and grabs her hips.  His slow movements increase in speed.  Skin slaps against skin.  She presses her palms against his chest, feeling his muscles flex and bulge.  Suddenly he removes himself from her.  He grabs his member, grunting and groaning as he finishes himself onto her stomach.

He rolls onto his back and then gets out of bed.  He pulls up his pants and goes into the bathroom without saying a word.  That is not like him.  Every other time he’s stayed with her, holding her, talking to her.  Shea looks down at herself.  His seed spattering her stomach and pooling in her navel.  She suddenly feels dirty.  Maybe having sex with him while he was on lyrium was a bad idea.  He comes back in the room with a towel in his hand.  He lays down beside her, pressing the cool, wet towel against her stomach.  She instantly feels better.  He wasn’t leaving and he was getting something to clean her up with.  He tosses the towel on the floor and sits back against the ornate headboard.  She looks up at him.  He is staring off into space.

“What are you thinking about?”

He looks at her.  “Nothing.”

“Nothing?  Not a single thought?”

“Well… I was thinking about lunch.  I’m hungry.”

She chuckles.  “We have sex for the first time in weeks and you’re thinking about food?”

“Yes.”

She shakes her head and points towards the couch.  “There’s something on the couch.  I’m not sure what it is.  But it smells good.”  He gets off the bed and picks up the tray.  He sits on the couch and removes the lid.  She sits up and watches his back as he starts to eat.  “Can I just say that this is weird?”

“Weird?  How so?”

“It’s hard to put into words.  We normally talk and lay together after we… and you’re over there.  Eating.”

“I told you I was hungry.”

She sighs, “That’s not the point.”

He looks over his shoulder, “Am I missing something?”

She lowers herself off the bed and sits on the couch across from him.  “I’m just wondering is this another side effect?  Your personality is so altered right now that you can’t even see that you just fucked me and left me there.”

“I… I didn’t realize it looked like that.  I apologize.  I have a… one track mind when I’m… on lyrium.  Focused on whatever task I need to complete.”

“So what we just did was a task?”

He chuckles.  The sound makes her smile.  “Of course not.  Feel free to wake me up like that whenever you want.”

She runs her fingers through her hair.  “Are feeling better after your nap?”

“Much.  I know you’re concerned about me.  I’m promise you I’m fine.  What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

She smiles.  “I could just stay here with you.  Lock the door, talk, read, sit around naked.  Whatever.”

“That would be nice, but some of us still have work to do before we do the Winter Palace.”

She shakes her head, “And I thought you worked too much before.”

He puts the lid back on the tray.  He stands and walks over to her.  “There is one benefit to this whole situation.”

“Oh?”

“I have more… stamina with all this lyrium.  And we’ve never done it twice in one day.  Your patience with my constant working while we’re here will be rewarded tonight.”  He bends down and kisses her. 

“I look forward it.”

He goes to put on his armor and she sighs.  She watches him dress and wonders what she’ll do for the rest of the day without him.  He returns to her when he’s done and kisses her again.  “See you tonight.”  He leaves the room and she lays back on the couch.  She hates how put together he is about this lyrium business.  She seems to be more torn up about than he is.  She gets up and picks her dress up of the floor.  She puts it on and checks herself in the mirror.  Satisfied, she heads out into the hall.  She doesn’t know what she’s going to do with her time, but sitting around in her room doing nothing seems depressing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Sorry it's only one today!
> 
> UPDATED July 24, 2018


	50. The Way You Look Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one again today. Sorry! I'm trying to get caught up on school work and it's interfering with my writing!
> 
> *** time/pov shift

Shea is laying on the plush garden grass watching the clouds.  She can’t find anything in the villa she feels like entertaining herself with.  Sparring is out because she has no idea where Josephine has hidden her armor.  She reads reports every single day, so the idea of reading something else held little enjoyment.  Dancing might be fun, but that proved potentially dangerous as every time she thinks about her dance with Dorian her mind instantly makes her think of sex and how her session with Cullen hadn’t fully satisfied her.  Which worries her a bit.  When they were finished, she felt great.  Yet not an hour later she was ready for more.  She hopes that will fade.  Dorian said it is some lingering effect from the desire demon’s attempt to take control of her mind. 

She sits up in the grass remembering that she needs to talk to her brother.  Some things aren’t adding up in her mind about last night or the uncovered memories.  She stands and brushes herself off determined to find him.  Though the idea of being alone with him makes her nervous, it is time for answers.  She has waited long enough.  She enters the dining room off the garden and spots a servant setting the table, readying it for dinner.  “Excuse me?”

The servant bows low to her.  “Inquisitor.  How may I be off assistance?

“I’m looking for my brother.  Have you seen him?”

“Yes, m’lady.  He’s in the ballroom.”

“And where is that?”

“From here you just cross the foyer and go past the main stairs.  You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.”

He bows to her, “It’s my pleasure, m’lady.”  He turns back to setting the table.

Shea walks through the villa, her bare feet padding softly on the marble floors.  She enters the ballroom and stops.  Brandon has a cane in his hand as he walks through the pairs of dancers.  Some she knows, others she doesn’t, but all of them are Leliana’s people.  Both Leliana and Josie are watching from the sidelines.  Brandon beats the cane on the ground and her mind flashes the matching memories in her mind.  She continues to watch him teach Leliana’s people and realizes that he is teaching them the dance she learned that night.  Her chest tightens as panic rises inside her.  She turns and starts to flee the ballroom.  A pair of arms encircle her waist and pull her into a darkened corner.  She covers her mouth to stop the scream she is about to let out.

She feels a pair of lips press into her shoulder.  “Miss me?”

She groans.  “I thought you went to Weisshaupt.”

Hawke spins her around and smiles at her.  “I was headed there, but then Fenris and I heard the Inquisition was invited to the Winter Palace.  I thought, ‘Ooooh fancy party!  Don’t mind if I do!’  And so here I am!”

“You mean Varric told you we were here.”

“Who else?”

She pushes back from him.  “Wait.  Did you say Fenris was here?”

He laughs, “Of course not.  I regaled him with tails of our adventures and when I mentioned Dorian and him being from Tevinter, he thought it best to stay away.  He has self-control issues you know.”

Hawke leans in to kiss her, she shoves against him.  “He’s not the only one.”

He lets her go and laughs.  “Lighten up.  I figured you were fair game after Dorian told me about your little private dance lesson.  My mistake.”

“I am going to kill him.”

“Still with the templar then?”

“Former and yes.”

“That’s too bad, because you look hot in that dress.”

She blushes and covers her face, “Would you stop doing that?”

“What?  Am I finally wearing down your resolve?”

She sighs, “Not exactly.  I uh… was almost possessed by a desire demon last night and there are… side effects.”

His voice becomes very serious, “Shea.  Define almost.”

“Ugh, if you want to know the whole story.  Then I want to go somewhere out of prying ears.  Not everyone needs to know about this.”  She goes back to the garden and he follows her.  She stops and is about to turn to face him, when she feels his finger trail along the scars on her back.  _Control yourself, Shea.  Control._ Not trusting herself to look at him she tells him all about their demon struggles with her back to him.  She omits the information about her brother from the events of the night before and any relevant events in her past, because unlike Cullen, Hawke could give two shits about Brandon’s importance to Ostwick and the Inquisition and would storm into the ballroom and kill him in front of room full of witnesses.  The whole time she talks, he traces her scars.  “So, that’s the whole story.”

“So, Cullen gave in to using lyrium and you have an increased libido.  Think he’d mind if I borrowed you?  Since his emotions aren’t really a factor right now.”

She turns to face him, “What happened to taking your hat out of the ring?”

“A man has needs.”

“Ugh.  You’re impossible!”

“I do what I can.”  He smirks at her.  “Well… the offer stands.  They’ve put me in the room meant for your templar since he isn’t using it.  The door’s open if you feel like taking me up on the offer.”  He kisses her cheek and walks away.

She shakes her head.  “Men.”

Cullen emerges from the shadows and clears his throat.  She spins to the sound her heart in her throat.  She feels like she’s done something wrong, even though she hasn’t.  “So…”

“So…”

“Hawke’s here?”

“Yep.  How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.”  She looks down at her hands and rubs her palm.  “What is it with you and Fereldans?”  She hears the humor in his voice.  He doesn’t sound mad.  She looks up at him.  His face is still fairly expressionless as it has been, but a hint of a smirk is present.  “I can’t say I blame him.  You are an enchanting woman.”  He looks away from her and rubs his neck.  “I had a thought earlier that you won’t like.”

“Oh?”

“Maybe you should sit.”

“I can stand.”

He sighs, “Alright.  You know I care about you.”

“I do.  Though you’ve expressed more than that to me.”

“I have.  That’s sort of the problem.”

Her chest tightens.  “Maybe I should sit.”  She sits on one of the stone benches and hugs one knee to her chest.

“Now, before you start freaking out, what I’m suggesting isn’t permanent.  But this whole… thing… isn’t fair to you.   I’m not myself.  Or least I’m not the man I want to be for you.  I don’t know when that man will come back.  To be completely transparent here, there’s a lot of pressure on me to rush back into the man I wish I were.  From me, our friends, you.  It’s hard to find him right now.  So…”

“Please don’t say it.  Please don’t even suggest it.  I have a feeling I know where this is going and…”

“I think we should take a break.  From us.  At least until the lyrium is out of my system again.”

She looks into his eyes.  He quickly looks away.  She stands and forces him to look at her.  He closes his eyes.  “Cullen what did you do?”

“I…”

“Open your eyes. Right now.”  He sighs and opens his eyes.  They are dark again.  Amber with a hint of red.  “What. Did. You. Do?”

“Shea I…”

“Answer me damn it!”  He reaches into his pocket and places the glass bottle in her hand.  She looks down at it.  A tiny drop of blue liquid rests at the bottom.  She drops it on the grass and backs away from him.  “Oh Cullen.  Please tell me you didn’t…”

“I wish I could.  It was just sitting there and… I’m sorry.  With all that’s at stake this week, I can’t risk going into withdrawal in the middle of the mission.  Saving the world has to come first.  Protecting you comes first.  At the expense of everything else.”  She places her hand over her heart.  She blames herself.  He took that first draft because of her and now it is taking him further away from her.  “I am still your Commander and will do my job, but until I can kick this for good… I think that’s all I should be.”

“Is there _anything_ I can say to change your mind?  I don’t want this.  I don’t want to lose you to this.”

He rubs his neck and looks away from her.  “You haven’t.  Like I said, this isn’t permanent.  My need to protect you, it’s stronger than anything I could ever feel.  Putting this distance between us is my way of protecting you from what I must endure.  Alone.”

She rushes forward and take his hands.  “You don’t have to do this alone!”

“Yes.  I do.  I’m sorry.”  He pulls his hands away and places them on either side of her face.  “Please give me this.  You are free to do whatever you want with whomever you want.  You are free from me and all the melodrama that is surrounding me.  I will be taking lyrium again before we go the Winter Palace and you shouldn’t have to see that.  I know this is causing you pain, and I am so sorry for that.  But I need to do this.  I need to find myself again.  Like you did.”

“Fine.  If… that’s what you really want… then how can I stop you?  I want to fight for you.  To make you stay.  But… you let me go when I needed to… so how could I not do the same?  I don’t want you to go, to force this unnecessary distance that we escaped so long ago.  I don’t want you to go.  But you’ve clearly made up your mind.”

“I’m sorry, love.  But I have.”

“Then… you’re going to have to be the one to walk away.  Because I won’t do it.”

He brushes his lips against hers. She leans up to close that tiny distance between their lips and he pulls away.  He runs his finger down her scar, turns on his heel, and walks away.  He doesn’t look back as he enters the house.  Her chest heaves.  She feels hallow.  White hot tears fall from her eyes.  She can’t feel her heartbeat or remember how to breathe.  Her arms hang limply at her sides as she just stares in the direction he walked.  _Please let this be some elaborate nightmare.  Some demon torturing me from the fade.  This can’t be real.  There’s no way this is real.  Wake up.  Just wake up._   She is frozen in that spot.  Eyes unblinking as she stares.  Silent tears streaming from her eyes.  For the second time today, she lets him walk away from her.

“Inquisitor?  Bann Trevelyan would like to know if you’ll be joining everyone for dinner?”  She doesn’t answer.  She doesn’t hear them.  “Inquisitor?”  When she doesn’t respond again, the servant leaves.  _This can’t be real.  It’s not real.  Just wake up and everything will be like it was._  

Soft fingers brush against her back.  “Shea?”  _Wake up.  Wake up._   “Darling?”  Dorian moves around her.  “Oh dear.”  He brushes the tears from her face.  “What happened?”

“Just wake up.  This can’t be real.  I just need to wake up.”

Her voice sounds far away, almost dead.  He sees the bottle on the ground and picks it up.  He sees the drop in the bottle.  “Why is there an empty bottle of lyrium on the ground?  Shea, did you…?”

His voice finally registers.  “He… why would he… this has to be a nightmare.  He wouldn’t…”

“Did Cullen drink this?”  She nods.  “What would possess him to take more?!”

“I… he…“ Her knees finally give out.  Dorian catches her as she faints.  He scoops her up in his arms and carries her through the house.  It’s still too early for dinner, so no one is around to see them.  Thinking her room would be a bad idea, he takes her to his room.

The enchanted armor is still sitting on one of the couches, “I thought I put you back.”  He sets her down on the empty couch and waves his hand at the suit of armor.   It stands and leaves the room.  Dorian closes the door and locks it.  He grabs a bottle of wine and pair of glasses and sets them on the table. He lifts her head and sits on the couch.  He doesn’t really know what to do.  After thinking for a moment, he summons magic into his fingers and runs them through her hair.  Dragging them across her scalp and all the way to the ends.  He becomes bored and begins braiding it in an intricate way he’s seen back home.

Her eyes flutter open and look up at him.  Neither of them say anything as he plays with her hair.  Once he finishes the braids and then unbraids her hair, he speaks in a soft whisper.  “Do you know where you are?”  She nods.  “Well, that’s something.  Do you still feel like you’re dreaming?”

“I really hope I am… but I… I know I’m not.”

“He took more lyrium?”

She nods, “Not only that… but he… left me.”

His hands stop moving in her hair.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t think I heard that right.”

She sighs as tears spill over her lashes.  “No.  You heard me correctly.  He ended it.  Said he needed to focus on finding himself and being professional.  At least that’s the summary.”

“And you let him?”

“What was I supposed to do?  Nothing I said changed his mind.”  She sighs, “I can’t help but blame myself for this.  He only used lyrium to save me.  Which is that same excuse he’s using now.  The mission and protecting me must come before everything else.  Once we’re back at Skyhold, he will stop using it again.  Until he’s back on track… no more… us.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“That I was free to do whatever or whomever I wanted, which is an obvious dig at Hawke’s proposition right before.”

“Hawke’s here?”

“He didn’t want to miss the party.”

“This feels like one of those over the top Orlesian Operas.  Did he think you’d take him up on it?”

She sits up and faces him.  “I don’t know.  I’m sure he heard me tell Hawke about last night and the side effects I’m suffering.  But if he did, then he heard me turn Hawke down.  I don’t need to have sex with anyone else.”

“How do you know?”

“I can get anything I need from him.  That’s actually the last thing we did before he went to work after lunch.  We even had plans tonight to go for round two.  Guess that’s not happening now.  Today has been a mess.”

He pours the wine and hands her a glass.  “The dancing was fun.”

“If not a little awkward.”

“For you maybe.  Lusting after someone you can’t have.”  He winks at her and sips his wine.

“Are you coming onto me, Master Pavus?”

“Me?  Never.”  He chuckles.  “Unless that’s what you want.”

She smirks, “You like _men_.  I’m not a man.”

“Far from it, in fact. But at least I got you to smile a little.  Honestly, if he is stupid enough to let you go, then to hell with him.  You are young and beautiful.  A skilled warrior and a fantastic dancer.”  He sips his wine and then gasps.  “I have an idea!”

She takes a large gulp of her wine.  “Why does that frighten me?”

“Let’s go dancing!  We can get all dolled up and have a night out on the town.  It’ll cheer you up!  Again to hell with him!  You are Shea Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste, and Leader of the Inquisition.  Any man who would give you up is an idiot.”

“I don’t know.  I kind of like the idea of locking myself in my room with a bottle of wine and just have a good cry.”

“Nonsense!  You want him back, you don’t need to wallow in sadness.  Make him jealous!  Let him see what he is missing.  If you want him back, you have to make him see the error of his ways.”  He jumps off the couch and goes into his bathroom.  After a few moments he comes back in the room.  “Now, you get your butt in that bath, while I go find something ravishing for you to wear.  I am not taking no for an answer.”

She downs her wine.  “Alright, fine.  But I can’t walk in heels.”

“Sure you can!  You’re a noble, darling.  Your feet just need to remember that!  Now go.”  He points to the bathroom.  She sighs and gets off the couch.  He shoves her into the bathroom and closes the door.

***

He makes her close her eyes while he gets her ready.  She sits in a chair as he does her hair.  “Are you done yet?”

“You can’t rush perfection.”  He shoves a pin in place.  “Now, you may have to secure that better, I’m not good with hair.  And I’ll need you to do your make up.  Stand up, keep your eyes closed, and drop that towel.”

“I’m not wearing any underwear.”

“Meh.  I’ve seen everything already.”

“You have not!”

“Who do you think washed you after that mountain feel on you?  Towel.  Floor.  Now.”

She sighs and lets the towel fall away.  He puts a corset on her and pulls it tight.  “I need to be able to breathe if we’re dancing.”  He grumbles and loosens it a little.  “Thank you.”  He makes her step into a dress and he pulls it up.  The fabric is silky on the inside.  When she touches it she feels lace.  She groans.  “Lace?  Really?”

“Hush.  And wait.  I know your style well enough to know you’ll like this.”  He buttons the back of the dress.  It feels like it has a lot of buttons.  He removes the halla necklace from her neck.  “Just for safe keeping.  Wouldn’t want you to lose it.”  He reaches under her dress and picks up one of her feet.  He straps shoes to it and does the same to the other one.  She wobbles a bit in the heels.  “Don’t worry.  We’ll practice to make sure they aren’t too high before leaving.  Now to accessorize.”  He stands back and rubs his chin.  She feels him wrap a belt around her waist.  “Hmm… I think that’s it.”

“Can I look now?”

He walks her over to a mirror and stands her in front of it.  “Yes.”  She opens her eyes and gasps.  She hardly recognizes herself, in a good way.  The dress is emerald green made of silk and lace of the same color.  Her skin shows through the lace sleeves that go to her forearm.  Her shoulders are bare.  The lace across her chest frames her ample bosom, which is being enhanced by the corset.  The dress hugs her curves to her hips wear it flares to a small train.  A gold lace belt with sparkling emeralds surrounds her waist.  She lifts up the front of the dress to reveal golden heels that match the belt.  They aren’t too tall, but the narrow heel makes it hard for her to balance.  Wisps of curls cascade around her face, the rest is held back with a golden headband and pinned into an elegantly curled bun at the back of her head, leaving her neck completely bare.  It feels a little shaky, so she grabs some pins and makes it more secure. 

“In your opinion, what is the best part of my face?”

He turns her to face him.  “Do you want people to be drawn to the scar?  Because if you highlight your eyes, they will more than likely they’ll look there next.”

“So, lips then?”

“Yes.”

She turns back to the mirror.  Her skin is clear and she blushes enough as it is so she skips that part of her makeup.  She lines her eyes in black and then she applies a deep red lipstick.  She turns back to him.  “Well?”

“You are perfection.”

“Great.  Now, let’s see if I can dance in this.”  He twirls his finger to start some music and leads her into a simple dance.  She has no problem.

“Graceful as always.  Now, you sit while I change.”  She sits on the couch and sips some wine.  She doesn’t want to ruin her lipstick.  Dorian is not one for dark colors, but he’s making an expectation.  “I don’t want to clash with you since I’ve decided I’m your date for the evening.  And the whole point of arm candy is to have her stand out.”  He puts on black pants and boots.  He stands back from his wardrobe and looks over at her.  He pulls out a black top with gold trim and gold embroidered dragons.   The collar is nice and high just like he likes it.  Also, in his usual style, one arm is bare.  He secures it with a gold belt.  He pulls leather black fingerless gloves from the wardrobe and puts them on.  They go up past his elbows.  “Come over here.”  She stands next to him.  He smiles, “Oh aren’t we gorgeous!  Do you have anything you need to bring with us?  Since I’m the one with pockets, I will be the pack mule.”

“Just my lipstick.  Josie said anywhere we go, we just tell them we’re with the Inquisition and they’ll send her a bill.”

“Lovely!  I’ll bring coin, just in case.  You never know.”

“Is it just going to be us?”

“Possibly.  I haven’t asked anyone yet.  I figured we’d go to dinner, show you off, then ask if anyone wants to join us.  Is that stuff waterproof?”

“My makeup?  No.”

He summons his magic and passes it over her face.  “There now you won’t need to touch up.  The spell with wear off by morning.”

She chuckles.  “Shall we go downstairs then?”

“You wait here.  Count to 30.  I want to see their faces when you enter.  Which is a reward as much for me as it is for you.”  He rushes out of the room.  Shea looks at herself in the mirror.  She feels sad, but is excited to be actually doing something.  She looks hot.  If he doesn’t want her like this, then he really is an idiot.  Figuring that is enough time, she takes a sip of wine before heading down to dinner.

***

Everyone is already seated when Dorian enters the dining room.  Bull whistles at him.  “Hot damn!  Where are you going?”

He smirks, “I happen to have a date tonight.”

Bull’s eyes narrow, “Who is this person?”

Dorian laughs, “Are you jealous, Amatus?”

Bull scoffs.  Cassandra leans forward in her seat.  “But really who is this person?  You’re dressed rather nice for this to be some casual thing.”

“We’re going dancing after dinner.  And you’ll see soon enough.  I’ve invited my date to dine with us.”

That sounds like her cue.  She glides into the dining room and several men choke on whatever they are drinking.  “Sorry to keep you waiting.”  Cullen hasn’t even looked up from the report he brought with him from the table.  Cassandra elbows him.  He looks at her and she just points.  He calmly sets the report on the table.  Looking at her as she stands next to Dorian, looking like a full grown woman, elegant, refined, and impossibly sexy makes him a little angry.  This is not the reaction he was expecting from her when he ended their relationship.

She chuckles, “Gentlemen, I do believe it is rude to stare.”

Dorian pulls out a chair for her and she sits.  He sits next to her.  Cullen grumbles under his breath and continues readying his report.  Hawke leans forward on his elbows.  “Dancing huh?  Are others allowed to join this outing?”  Shea looks over at Dorian.

He shrugs, “I don’t see why not.  We’ll make a party out it.  Though you’ll need proper attire, which I am more than willing to assist with.”

Everyone starts chattering about their excitement of going out on the town.  By the time dinner is served, Hawke, Varric, Josie, Blackwall, Sera, and Cassandra have all signed on to go.  A winking sideways glance to Bull from Dorian gets him to join in.  Hawke has not looked away from Shea once since she sat down.  Brandon gets Shea’s attention.

“Yes?”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.  Since everyone has to go get ready, would it be alright if we talked after dinner?”

“That sounds fine.  I wanted to talk to you too.”

“Great.  Then I’ll meet you in my study?”

She nods.  She’s a little nervous about talking to him alone, but it needs to happen.  By the time dinner ends, the only ones not going are Cullen, Cole, and Solas.  Though at least half of them are just going to drink and watch.  Dorian has assigned Vivienne to help him get everyone who is dancing properly attired, to which she gladly accepts.  Those just going to drink and be merry can dress themselves.  Cassandra stops by Shea’s chair before heading up stairs.

“Is everything alright?”

“Regarding?”  Cassandra looks over at Cullen.  “Oh that.  No.  He’s back on lyrium.  And he… ended things… with us because of it.”

“I’m sorry.  Is that why you’re going out?”

“A little.  I don’t know.  It’s weird.  Like I want to be upset and just sit around and cry, but I’m actually looking forward to this.  Are you planning on dancing?”

“I thought about it.”

“Then get Dorian to help you pick something.  He picked this for me.”

“I’m not sure I can pull something like that off.”

“Just trust him.  Unless you like that ridged Orlesian look Vivienne has.”

“Good point.  I’m not sure about the whole dress thing.”

“Cassandra, if you don’t like what he picks out tell him.  Now hurry up.”  She smirks and goes up the stairs.  The only ones left at the table are Shea and Cullen.  She glances over at him.  She sighs and pushes back from the table.  She turns to leave.

“Inquisitor?” 

She turns to face him.  “Commander?”

He pushes back from the table and stands.  “Be safe tonight.”

She smirks, “Always.”

“And… you look… very…”  He thinks about the word he wants.  He is still angry about her going out to have fun after he all but ripped her heart out.  He saw her face in the garden, saw her stand there staring at where he left, saw her faint into Dorian’s arms.  And here she is, off to enjoy herself while he is going to be in his new room, sulking and brooding.  “Very _noble_ this evening.”  He means it as an insult.  Her eyes narrow at him.  _Good.  She got my meaning._

“I shall take that as a compliment, Commander.  Enjoy your _work_.”  She turns and leaves the dining room.  It isn’t the best comeback she can come up with, but it is definitely the nicest thing she thought of.  Though she is hurt, heartbroken, and little angry, she can’t bring herself to be cruel to him.  She heads for Brandon’s study.  The door is open.  He has changed into a very nice blue and silver formal suit.  “Are you going with us?”

“I couldn’t resist.  I never get to use the dancing skills I’ve learned, expect to teach Leliana’s spies earlier.  We all could use a night of fun before entering into the madhouse that is the Winter Palace.”  He motions for her to have a seat.  She sits in the seat he indicated and he sits in a chair across from her.  “I wanted to start by apologizing for the whole carriage thing.  Father’s been pressuring me to marry the both of us off to complete strangers and I took it out on you.  And for that I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.  Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“Uh… yeah.  That’s about it.”

“Ok good.  Because what I need to talk about is… difficult.”

“I’m listening.”

She takes a deep breath.  “Ok.  First, where were you last night?”

“You mean while Cullen climbed the roof and you were screaming?  I was in the dining room with Varric.  I was working out a way to further help Kirkwall.  Then we heard screaming and Cullen came running through.”

She presses against her temples.  “Well… shit.  So that was all a hallucination?  Is there more than one way into my room?”

“No.  Just the one door.”

“There’s not a secret door in the study?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Great.  That gets all that sorted.  Fucking demons.”

“Are you going to explain or…?”

“Well… I uh… need to discuss something else first.  It will provide context.”

“Ok.”

“Do you… remember when you taught me to play Wicked Grace?”

He sits a little straighter in his chair and looks away from her.  “I… yes.  I remember.”

“And you remember what happened… after?”

“I wish I didn’t, but yes.”

“Care to explain that?”

He leans forward but keeps his hands in his lap.  “Do you remember?  Because back then you acted like nothing had happened.  I tried to apologize to beg you to forgive me.  To tell anyone and everyone what I had done.  I deserved to be punished for what I did to you.  You told me not to worry about it.  There’s was no harm done.  I was confused at your behavior.  How you could be so calm?”

“I didn’t remember.  A demon called The Nightmare took the memory away from me, because I asked it too.  Even now I don’t recall being in pain after wards, though I’m sure I was in a lot of pain.”

He is quiet for a moment.  “You assumed you got hurt sparring or something.  Is… that why you been so distant?  You remember now?”

“Yes.  Every detail.”

“Maker.  Shea, I’m so sorry.  I have been since that day!  I don’t know why I did that.  I know that nothing I can say or do can make up for the mistake I made.”  He rest his elbows on his knees and covers his face.  “I’ve been torn up about this for years.  It’s effected my whole life.  Every relationship.  Every choice I’ve made.  I’ve never spoken to anyone about it.  You were fine, nothing had changed.  It was like it never happened, but it did!  I remember it!  And I hate myself for it.”

She feels for him.  His words are sincere.  “I’ve often wondered what my life would be like if I hadn’t forgotten.  Judging by reactions after the memory was returned to me, I can’t say that life would have been easy.  I can tell that you mean what you’re saying, but at 14… I think it would have ruined me.  I have triggers now.  Anything related causes me to feel like I’m back there.  I almost had a panic attack today when I walked into the ballroom when you were teaching the dance we learned that day.  I can’t play Wicked Grace.  I can’t drink strawberry wine.  It took a lot of effort to be able to let my… ex-boyfriend touch me.  I’m sure you could feel something was off when you hugged me.”

“Or touched you in any way.  Sometimes when you look at me.  It’s no less than I deserve.  Is this why you don’t want to come home?”

She sighs, “Ostwick isn’t my home anymore.  Not after everything I’ve learned about our family.  Skyhold is my home now.  I feel safe and welcomed there.  I… _want_ to forgive you.  Because I can see that this has hurt you too, but I can’t.  It’s going to take a long time for these mental scars to heal.  Like right now, my body is telling to run from the room.  Get as far from you as I can.  But… I know now that you wouldn’t hurt me again.  It will never be like it was, but maybe one day I can be your sister again.”

He wipes the tears he’s been hiding and looks up at her.  “I think I can live with that.  I won’t pressure you into coming back after all of this is over.  You can marry whomever you want.  You can cut me out.  Whatever you want.  Just know, that no matter what, I am your brother.  You are my sister.  Take all the time you need to… to… figure out what role you want me to play in your life.  I can keep my distance, never talk to you again, if that’s what you want.  I’m the one who is in the wrong here.  I am the guilty party.  If you think I should pay from my crime, then I will accept my punishment.”

“That won’t be necessary.  I think we’ve both suffered enough, don’t you?  It may take time, but maybe I can… forgive you… one day.  You are my brother.  What happened doesn’t change that.  The good memories are still there.  They may be a little tainted now, but once I figure out which ones are real and which ones were planted by that fucking demon, then it might become easier.”

She stands up and offers him her hand.  He looks up at her.  “How can you possibly…?”

“Just stand up.”  He takes her hand and stands.  She wipes the tears from his face.  “If we’re going to work on getting over this, we need to start slow.  Baby steps.  Ok?”

“You really have grown up.  You’re a better person than me, that’s for damn sure.  Baby steps.  I can do that.”  She holds open her arms.  “What?  Really?”

“If you want a hug, take it before I change my mind.”  He steps into her arms.  She closes them around him and he gently hugs her back.  It doesn’t last long, but it’s a start.  She pulls back from him.  “Now that that’s out of the way.  Are you still coming with us?”

“I’d like to.”

“Then go wash your face and we’ll meet you in the foyer.”  She leaves his office and goes down the hall.  She makes a corner and then leans against the wall.  She is surprised at how easy that was.  She is going to have to search her mind to see if his story matched with her actual memories.  She hopes that when her side effects fade these fake memories will go too.  She composes herself and heads to the foyer.

***

Her feet are killing her as they stagger back to the villa.  She is not near as drunk as everyone else.  Her inhibitions are already being messed with and she did want to aid in their destruction.  She feels like she never stopped dancing the whole time.  Every time a dance would end someone would cut in and she’d start right into the next one.  She stops for a moment to take her heels off.  The laughter of all of her friends echoes off the walls.  Though she is tired, she has to admit that she had a wonderful time. 

Josie kept saying that people were going to be talking about that party for ages to come.  Blackwall and Josie have gotten close over the course of the evening.  She even got him to dance with her though he hadn’t come along for that.  Varric and Cassandra seemed to have put their differences aside and it looked like they are starting to come friends.  Bull surprised everyone by showing that he could actually dance and is good at it.  Dorian was all over him after that.  Vivienne had left early, which Shea didn’t mind.  She can’t even remember the reason she gave either.  Leliana has picked up some useful information, because just like Cullen, she never stops working.  Sera is the drunkest, as always, and Bull has to carry her back or she’d wander off and get lost somewhere.

Then there is Hawke.  He didn’t know any of the dances.  But after Dorian taught him a few, because Orlesians don’t care about what sex your dance partner is, he picked up on others quickly.  He was never far from her side.  He is walking beside her now.  Talking to Varric about some subject she isn’t listening to.  He keeps making eye contact with her.  She knows what he wants, but she isn’t ready to give in.  Her heart still aches for Cullen.  She isn’t ready to move on yet.

They all go their separate ways once they enter the villa.  Though Shea is tired, she has no desire to go to her empty room.  So instead of charging up the stairs like everyone else, she goes left and walks into the ballroom.  She’s not sure why she picks this location, there are no places set out to sit, no music to dance to.  Not that she wants to.  The sound of her bare feet echo through the massive room.  It is the only sound.  She stands in the center of the room.  She looks up at the elaborate, golden ceiling.  She studies the lines and pictures.  She feels a peaceful calm fall over her as she looks at it.  She sits down on the cold floor and lays down on her back.  She smiles to herself thinking how mad Dorian would be if he saw her laying on the floor in her expensive gown.

She hears someone’s boots click on the floor.  The sound approaching her.  She turns her head in that direction.  Hawke smiles at her and she returns her gaze to the ceiling.  “Not done dancing yet?”

“Oh I’m definitely done dancing.  My feet are killing me.”

He stands above her looking down.  “Yet you’re in the ballroom and not in bed.”

She shrugs, “It’s too cold to be out in the garden in this.  She instead of stars…”  She motions to the ceiling.  He looks up.  “I like astrariums.  So looking up at the sky, or in this case ceiling, and trying to draw pictures from random dots and lines is relaxing.”

“You could be relaxing in bed.  There’s a ceiling in there too.  And I’m sure it’s more comfortable than a marble floor.”

“Probably.  It find myself not wanting to go to my room just yet.”

“Any particular reason?  Or is there not enough gold leaf in there?”

She smirks, “Hawke, I didn’t realize you had taken up fishing as a hobby.  Catch anything good lately?”

He sits down next to her.  “Possibly. A few bites here and there.  The halls are teaming with juicy tidbits tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Lots of cohabitating.  Some surprising, some not.  What I find most unusual is the best catch is just out in the open and no one has caught her yet.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed.  Where is your lion fish this evening?  I noticed he did join us.”  She sighs and closes her eyes.  “Ah.  His loss if you ask me.”

“Should I remind you that you have your own fish swimming around out there?”

He chuckles.  “We have… an understanding.  An arrangement, so to speak.  We both have our own needs that sometimes don’t line up.”

She opens her eyes to look at him. “And what are these needs exactly?”

“He has an obsession with an impossible task.  It consumes him, takes him to far off places.  We’re never in the same place for long.  He feels it’s his mission to free every slave in Tevinter and to kill their masters.  It’ll never happen, but if that’s what he wants to do, more power to him.  I, on the other hand, am more of a realist.  Though his dream is a nice one, well the end result, I know it will never happen.  He can’t wipe out the whole of the Imperium by himself.  In regards to the world order, I focus myself on the more attainable.  Like helping the Wardens.”

“Yes, but I’m sure that’s not what needs you are referring to.”

He smirks.  “There are some things that always seem to be out of my reach.  Even if they are right next to me.”

She groans.  “Not this again.”

“I know.  I know.  Never going to happen.  I got the message.  Yet I can’t help myself.  Every time I’m near you… ah but you are the unobtainable.  The forbidden fruit as it were.  It seems I have a type.”

“A type?”

“Fenris was unobtainable.  We hated each other at first.  Then I saw this tiny person swinging around a gigantic weapon and saw how tortured he was.  It took work to get him to give in to me.  But he did and I’m glad for it.  It’s that same with you, sort of.  You have always been unobtainable and I am drawn in by it.  Then I got to know you.  In Kirkwall and in our letters.  That distance, knowing what you were destined for, helped clear my head.  Then that all changed.  I was just drawn in by the forbidden, but have become fixated after seeing you again.  Kissing you again.  Yet you are still unobtainable.  And it drives me crazy.”

“Why have you never said any of this?”

“Would it have mattered?  By the time I met you again, you had your own fixation.”

She sits up and turns herself to face him.  “How long have you felt like that?”

“Years.  I didn’t know it in Kirkwall, but after writing back and forth, I started developing more of an attraction to you.  If I wasn’t trying to run an entire city at the time, I would have come to Ostwick and made a move.  Not that I thought you’d accept.  But just letting you know the option was there would have been enough.”

“Hawke… I…”

“I know that I would just be a runner up.  A consolation prize.  And honestly, I’m not expecting anything.  I really just came to check on you.  Not to express my undying love or anything.  I suppose I have all the wine to thank for that.  Have you ever loved two people at once?  Two very different people.  Polar opposites in almost every way.  There are only two things they have in common, they are scary when they are angry and they both use gigantic weapons.”

Her ears burn and her heart stops.  “Did… did you just say…?”

“Yes.  I did.  You don’t have to respond.  In fact, I don’t think you should respond.  Just think about what I’ve said.  And if he doesn’t want you, know that I do.  Though I’m not sure how it would work, I’d be willing to figure something out.”  He gets off the floor and offers her his hand.  She takes it and he helps her stand.  “You should get some rest.  I’m sure Josephine has all kinds of new meetings for you tomorrow after tonight.”  He steps in close to her.  She doesn’t know what to do.  She should step back from him, she knows what her heart wants, and it isn’t him.  It would be unfair to him to let anything happen.  It would only add to her already complicated situation.  She feels like a frightened deer.  Standing completely still with her eyes open and unblinking.  When she doesn’t back away, he moves closer to her.  “How mad would you be… if I kissed you right now?”

“I’m not sure mad is the right…”  He takes her face in his hands and presses his kips against hers.  She inhales sharply.  His mouth moves against hers.  She places her hand on his chest and gently pushes him away.  He moves his face away from hers, but doesn’t let her go.  His hands are firmly cupping her jaw.  “I’m sorry.  It’s too soon.  I…”  He runs his thumb across her bottom lip.  Her breath catches in her throat.  She can feel herself begin to cave, to just give in.  She’s not cheating, he left her.  He gave her permission.  The only person cheating would be Hawke, but it sounds like he something worked out so that Fenris wouldn’t mind.  Still she fights for control.  This would only complicate things for the both of them.  Especially him as he just confessed that he loved her.  A love she didn’t feel that she could return.  “Hawke.”

“Yes?”

“This isn’t… we shouldn’t… it’s a bad idea.”

“I know.  More for me than you, but…” 

She pulls his hands away.  “Tell you what.  Give it a few days.  I have things I need to think about and you have to decide if it’s really what you want.  This kind of thing is not something I take lightly and with recent events I’m not ready to…”

“You’re right.  I don’t think I’ll change my mind about it, but if you do… I’ll be here.”  He kisses her again and then leaves.  It is time to go back to her room and lock the door before anyone else pops out of the shadows looking to hook up.  She picks up her heels off the ground and heads up the stairs.  Her room is on the opposite side of the villa from everyone else, but she can still hear the moans ricocheting off the walls.  She can’t help her curiousity.  She wants to know who is keeping each other company for the night but there is only one door in particular she wants to listen to.  The rest she feels is none of her business.  Her biggest problem is that she doesn’t know which one it is.  She knows where Dorian’s room is.  She knows where Hawke’s room is because it used to be Cullen’s. 

She gets an idea and rushes to the kitchen.  It is empty as all the staff are asleep by now.  One thing she always appreciated about the people her family hired is how organized they are.  She searches the kitchen for paper.  “Come on breakfast orders.”  She finds something even better.  “Jackpot!  Room assignments!”  She finds the name she’s looking for and puts the paper back where she found it. 

She goes back up the stairs and finds the door she’s looking for in the middle of the loudest hallway.  Right next to Dorian’s.  She feels a little guilty for spying on him, but she is sure that she won’t hear anything because he didn’t go out with everyone.  Never got an opportunity to meet someone to bring back.  Yet she can’t resist the urge to find out if he is also spending the night alone.  She presses her ear against the door.

She can hear someone moving around in there, but can’t tell what they are doing.  She waits trying to tune out the noises coming from Dorian’s room.  She hears him speaking.  Is he talking to himself?  A woman’s voice answers her question.  Her blood boils while a chill runs down her spine.  He chuckles.  She can hear the smile in his voice.  She hears a sound so soft she can’t identify it.  She closes her eyes and plugs her other ear.  When it happens again, the sound is unmistakable.  He’s kissing this woman.  Repeatedly. 

She shoves away from the door and storms down the hallway.  She stops and rushes back to the door.  She kneels on the ground on looks into the keyhole.  She can sort of make out the couch.  It’s a mirrored set up to Dorian’s room.  Then she sees him.  At least the lower half of him.  He’s standing.  She can’t see the woman, but he’s still kissing her.  She knows she shouldn’t be watching, but she has to know who this woman is.  She sees Cullen get pushed onto the couch.  She can see the side of his face.  Then the woman straddles him and kisses him.  She gasps as she sees a face she recognizes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the angst wasn't too much for you all. Things are on their way to being better I promise! Thanks for reading!
> 
> UPDATED July 24, 2018


	51. Song of Forgetting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little late night apology for me having to cut my chapters down to one a day. 
> 
> *** time/pov shift

Shea scrambles to her feet and runs to a door down the hall.  She bangs on it.  It flies open.  Hawke steps into the hall wearing only a loose fitting pair of black pants.  They sit low on his hips.  Thick black curls cover his chest.  “Shea?”

She shakes her head to return her focus and looks into his confused face.  “Did you know your sister is here?”

“What?  She’s supposed to be with Aveline far away from all this shit.  Are you sure?”

“Go look for yourself.” He goes into his room and puts on a shirt.  He follows her back down the hall and she stops in front of the door.

“That’s Cullen’s room.”

“Look in the keyhole.” 

He kneels down and peers into the keyhole.  He stands and growls.  He back up few steps then charges the door, kicking it in.  He charges into the room as the dark haired woman scrambles to cover herself.  “Bethany Hawke!  What the hell are you doing here?!”

Shea stays in the hall.  That is not to reaction she is expecting, though she probably should have.  Cullen rolls his eyes, “It’s called knocking, Hawke.”

“Answer me.”

Bethany glares at him, “What business is it of yours where I am?”

“Because you’re supposed to be safely hidden away with Aveline.  Not about to…”

“What I do is my business.  Now get out.”

Hawke and Bethany yell at each other.  Shea decides to leave them to settle whatever it is they need to.  She starts walking down the hall.  She shouldn’t have gotten involved.  Seeing them together tore at her heart and she needs to be alone.  She picks up her speed so she can distance herself from his room.  She has gone through enough drama of one day.

She goes into her room and closes the door.  She drops her heels on the floor and looks around. The room is dark, but a few things stand out to her.  The bedding has been changed.  His trunk is gone.  She sighs and then works on getting her dress off.  She removes the belt and then struggles to reach the buttons.  ”Who thought it was a good idea to put some many damn buttons on this thing?”  With a lot of contorting and arm twisting, she finally manages to get the buttons undone.  She slips out of the gown and opens the wardrobe.  She hangs it up and reaches for her comfortable clothes.  Her heart sinks.  Her comfortable clothes were clothes she stole from him.  He has taken them back.  Every trace of him was gone.  She finds her nightgown hanging and grabs it.  She removes her corset and slides it over her head.  She removes all the pins from her hair and shake it out.  She reminds herself to get the halla necklace back from Dorian and closes the wardrobe.

She heads for the bed.  There’s a knock at her door.  She doesn’t want to talk to anyone.  She just wants to curl up on her bed and wallow in her sadness.  She knows they won’t go away if she doesn’t at least acknowledge them, so she goes to the door and opens it just a crack to see who it is.  The door gets pushed in and closed.  Cullen is standing in front of her and he is seething.  She backs away from him and sits on the couch.

“So, you were spying on me?”

She pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on them.  “It sounds like you know the answer.”

“Why?”

“I just wanted to know what you were doing.  I didn’t expect you to have… company.”

He starts pacing.  “What I do on my own time is…”

“I know.  I just didn’t think you’d… move on… so quickly.”

Cullen looks at her and she looks away.  She can feel tears rising in her eyes and she doesn’t want him to see them.  “What was I supposed to do after seeing that display at dinner?”

“It was dancing and a night out.  A night out that wasn’t even my idea.  I was content to just stay here, alone.”  She glances over at him, “Wait.  Was that to get back at me?”

“No.”

“When did Bethany get here?”

He scoffs, “What does that matter?”

“Is she… is she the reason you…”

He sighs and his anger subsiding.  He sits on the couch across from her.  “No.  What I told you earlier was true.  She showed up after all of you left.”

“And you decided you were over me that quickly?”

“I’ll remind you I was with her before I ever met you.”

She presses her forehead into her knees.  “If you’re done scolding me for sticking my nose where it clearly doesn’t belong, could you go?”

“Are you… crying?”

“No.”

“Yes, you are.”

She looks up at him with tears streaming down her face.  “Fine.  Yes, I’m crying. I’ve been doing that a lot today.  So, if we’re done here…”

His voice becomes gentle.  “Shea I…”

She stands.  “No!  You don’t get to do that.  You can’t just rip my heart out and smash it to pieces.  Then go back to your ex, almost fuck her, and expect me to be ok with that.  Is this how you figure out who you are?  Is this the new you?  Because if it is, I want no part of it.  I hate what lyrium does to you.  And don’t give me that one track mind bullshit.  You are a human being and you forget that I’ve known templars my whole life.  The real you is still in there, you are just to chicken shit to let yourself find him.”  He stands up and moves towards her.  “No!  Don’t touch me.  It’s taken all day for me to get past all the sadness and settle into anger.  Since you are the cause of it, you’re going to stand there and fucking take it.”

“You were planning on fucking Hawke.  I saw it.”

“You didn’t see shit!  _He_ propositioned _me_.  I turned him down.  I have always turned him down.  And I _will_ _always_ turn him down.  My head is fucked up with all this desire demon crap and yet I _still_ turned him down.  Even after you dumped me, I continue to turn him down.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s it?  Oh?  What the fuck is wrong with you?  How much lyrium have you taken?  Are you trying to kill yourself?  Because taking too much at once will kill you.  And even though you need time to find yourself and don’t want me there to help you do it, that doesn’t mean you can just throw caution to the wind.”

“I haven’t had any more since earlier. But Bethany did give me some since Cassandra has cut me off.”

“Are fucking kidding me?”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“Ugh!”  She charges past him and flings open her door.  He chances her down the halls.  Shea flings his door open.  Bethany and Hawke have calmed down and are just chatting together in Cullen’s room.  They are surprised to see her.  “Where are they?”

“Shea.  Stop.”

“Where?”

Bethany looks at Hawke and he shrugs.  Shea goes right for his trunk.  Cullen goes to incept her and she slams him against the wall.  “You.  Stay there.”  She opens the trunk and right on top are five bottles of lyrium.  She growls and grabs them.  She storms out of the room and he chances her.

“Damn it, Shea.  I need those.”

He chases her into the main sitting room.  She stops in front of the fireplace and turns to face him.  “You don’t need them.  That is the lyrium and your addiction talking.  You were doing perfectly fine without them.”

“I need to be at full strength at the…”

“No.  You don’t.  I need your mind more than I need you like this.  You have no instincts.  You have no empathy.”

“I’m better at my job this way.”

“Are you?  Because I don’t think you are.  You know what happens to even the most careful templars.  You are putting yourself and the Inquisition at risk, because you are too blind to see that this,” she holds up the bottles, “is what is going to kill you.  There is proof in that.  Then think about this.  Red lyrium is more powerful than the regular stuff.  Do you think in your current state you could resist it?  Think about that before you answer.”  He looks at the floor.  “From what we’ve learned about it, the song is louder.  If one tiny drop of the blue stuff gives you pause, just imagine what the red stuff will do.”

“I can resist.”

“No.  You can’t.  You couldn’t resist earlier today.  You are letting your addiction cloud your judgement.”  She tosses the bottles into the fire.

“No!”

“Commander Cullen.  As your superior, I am issuing an official order that you are no longer permitted to take any form of lyrium.  It is to be kept away from you at all times.  Until you can control your addiction, I will control it for you.”

“Shea, you can’t…”

“I believe I just did.  Unless you want to disobey a direct order from the Inquisitor.”

He sighs.  “There are templars and mages among my troops.  They will still need lyrium.”

“Who is your second?”

“Rylen.  But Lysette while he’s in the Approach.”

“Then she can handle any and all business regarding lyrium for the Inquisition’s forces.”  He sits on a nearby chair and runs his fingers through his hair.  He is torn.  Part of him is happy that she issued an order, because he knows he won’t disobey her.  The other part of him is angry that she is forcing him to get clean again.  “Furthermore, the mage tower at Skyhold is off limits to you until you can control yourself.  As are any and all places lyrium can be found.”

“Are you going in imprison me next?”

“If I have to.  Though I don’t think it will come to that.  Should any of these orders be disobeyed, should anyone go behind my back to give you lyrium, official charges will be filed and punishment rendered.”

“Is this really necessary?”

“You’ve forced my hand.”

“All because I need space.  Time to myself.”

“Do you think so poorly of me that you think I would allow my personal feelings to cloud my judgement on this?  You are a better commander without lyrium.  We cared about your men.  You were an example to any templar who might be looking for a way out.  You were passionate about this cause and were willing to suffer for the things you believe in.  You were a man trying to distance himself from the horrors you’ve witnessed and the life that no longer suited you.  That is the man Cassandra recruited.  That is the man the Inquisition needs.  Not this one.”

“This… doesn’t change anything.”

“I’m aware.  You can hate me for this.  You can be mad at me.  Yell at me.  Hurt me.  But I will not change my mind.  If this makes our break up permanent… then I guess that’s how it’s going to have to be.”

“You’re willing to throw everything away just so I’ll stop taking lyrium?”

“Yes.  It’s what’s best for the Inquisition and for you.  If that means, that I’m pushing you even further away.  Then… I’ll just have to live with that, but at least I’ll know when it’s all said and done, you will be the man you want to be and you’ll be completely free to make your own choices.”

She looks back at the fire.  The liquid inside the broken glass has completely burned up.  If she leaves, he won’t be able to retrieve them.  She sighs and walks towards him.  She places her hand on his shoulder.  “I apologize for the pain this will put you though, but everything will be better in the long run.”  She doesn’t wait for him to respond.  She leaves him sitting there and goes back to her room.

Her whole body feels heavy.  She needs to go to sleep, if she can.  She closes her door, but doesn’t lock it.  She holds onto some deep hope that he’ll come back to her.  Though she doesn’t know if he will.  But in the event that he changes his mind about them, she will be waiting.  She pulls back the covers and climbs into bed.  She curls into a ball and pulls them over her head.  She’s glad she at least did something.  She fought for at least one thing to make him the way he was.  Even if he can’t forgive her for pulling the boss card, she knows he’ll be happy later.  She closes her eyes as tears wet her cheeks.  It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep.  Her body and mind are exhausted.

***

Cullen continues to sit in front of the fire, watching the bottles melt.  He isn’t mad at her, though he probably should be.  In reality, he is grateful she handled it that way.  She knows him and knows that he would never go against a direct order unless it put others at risk.  He can name only a couple of times in his life that he went against his orders.  Once in Kirkwall when Meredith ordered him to kill Hawke.  The second was also with Meredith when she ordered Bethany to be made tranquil out of spite for Hawke’s meddling.  No one knew about that one.  He had lied to Meredith saying that he’d have to wait for the right opportunity and every time the Knight-Commander brought it up, he just continued lying.  She was so blinded by hatred she couldn’t even see that he was stalling.

This order, the one he was just given, would be hard.  But he will obey.  She could claim the decision wasn’t personal, but he knows better.  She is helping him when he can’t help himself.  She is right, he is being reckless with how much lyrium he is using at once.  Normally one dose would last him a week maybe more.  So far, he has taken three in a 24 hour period.  He is practically vibrating.  He looks down at his hand.  His fingers feel cold.  His veins bulge with every heartbeat.  He opens and closes his hand.  Had he made a mistake?  He knows the lyrium was a mistake.  He couldn’t bring himself to regret the first time as it saved her life.  But the next two times were all him.  Trying to ease the pain he is feeling.  To dull him to the pain in her eyes.  To make it so he didn’t feel the scorn in the eyes of his friends.  The shame he feels for giving in.

He can think when he is alone.  Social situations are hard.  He didn’t even know he was about to have sex with Bethany.  His mind was elsewhere and his body was controlling itself.  That scares him more than anything else.  It is even harder to think around magic.  That includes Shea and her mark.  Maybe he could help her with the demonic side effects.  She mentioned she was having trouble sorting real memories from planted ones, not to mention the whole libido thing.  This is delicate and would use a lot of lyrium, but he figures that the sooner he uses it up the sooner he’d be back to normal.  Having this order to hold him accountable makes him a little less afraid of the pain to come.

He rubs his face and stands.  He walks up the stairs and heads to her room.  He pauses outside the door.  She probably locked it.  She usually does.  He grabs the knob and closes his eyes.  It opens.  He steps inside and closes the door quietly.  He doesn’t plan on staying just doing what he needs to do and then going back to his own room.  His eyes adjust to the darkened room and he finds her.  She’s completely covered herself in the little mound on the bed.  He doesn’t want to wake her.  With her mind in a relaxed state it will make it easier for him to find the magic lingering in her head.

He gently pulls the covers back just enough to reveal her head.  He climbs up next to her and kneels beside her.  He places his hand on her temple.  He closes his eyes.  As he focuses, he can feel the tiny droplets of magic scattered around in her head.  He would need to be careful or he could seriously hurt her.  He works slowly using his abilities to slowly dissolve each piece.  It takes him roughly an hour to get them all.  He’s not sure how much of the fake memories she’ll remember, but she’ll at least be able to tell the fake ones from the real ones.

He covers her head back up and climbs off the bed.  He softly walks through the room and quietly closes the door behind him.  He walks down the now quiet halls to his room.  Hawke is gone, but Bethany is still sitting on his couch when he enters his room.

She smiles at him, “Hey.  You’ve been gone a while.”

“I had a meeting with the Inquisitor.  She had orders for me.”

“She destroyed them didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“I have more if…”

“Don’t let anyone hear you say that.  My orders are to not take it and if anyone tries to give me any she will have them arrested.”

She scoffs, “She sounds like a hard ass.”

“She means well.”  He sits down next to her and she scoots right up next to him.  “I wasn’t completely honest with you earlier.  For one, I had actually quiet using lyrium when I left Kirkwall.”  She twirls his hair in her finger.  “Until last night, I had been clean.  But I had to take it in order to save the Inquisitor from being possessed.”

“Oh wow.  You must think highly of her then.”

“I… love her.”

She sits back from him.  “You said you were single.”

“I am.  I ended it with her this afternoon.”

“You just said you love her.  Present tense.  But you broke up with her.  Why?”

He rubs his face.  “I need to try to kick this alone.  Without the pressure of her worrying and hovering and being supportive.  While also looking at me like I’m a stranger.”

“You didn’t say that did you?”

“Not in those words.  I told her I needed time to find the man I want to be.  Which is true, but it’s also something she told me once and I figured it would be a good tactic to use to get her not to fight me on it.”

“You are an idiot.  You always have been and always will be.  She had my brother kick in a door to stop you from sleeping with me.  She used her position to force you to stop taking lyrium.  She could care less if you want her to stay away while you wallow in self-pity.  She’s not only a hard ass.  She’s smart, cunning, and manipulative.  But in the best ways.  She might know what’s best for you more than you do.”  She stands up and heads for the door.  “I’m going to find somewhere else to crash.  Maybe my brother’s couch.  I promised him I’d go back to hiding with Aveline until all this mess is over.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

She laughs, “Of course I do, dummy.  I’m not about to throw myself at a man I can’t have.”

He smirks, “Didn’t stop you before.”

“Let’s be honest with ourselves.  Kirkwall was hell and the time we spent together was fun.  But we hardly know each other.  We didn’t exactly talk much.  Nothing would have ever come of it.  You have the chance for something real.  With the way the world is now, you should probably hang onto that with everything you have.  Who knows how long you’ll have.  Goodbye, Cullen.”  She leaves his room and closes the door.

He slowly inhales and then lets it out in a huff.  She is right of course.  He is being stupid, but he can’t bring himself to go fix it until he has normalized.  It will still be a few days.  If he spars with mages and focused on work, that time will go by faster.  He needs to be careful that he isn’t in the middle of withdrawals at the peace talks, but he can at least be more himself.  He pushes off the couch and crawls into his bed.  He pulls the blanket up to his chest and stares at the ceiling.  He makes a list of things he needs to do the next day.  _Breakfast, respond to reports, finalize troop movements for ball, lunch, spar with someone, nap, dinner, find something energy consuming to do, bed._   He nods and closes his eyes.  It helps him to plan the events while his blood sings to him.  It allows him to stay on track.  He falls asleep replaying his to-do list in his mind.

***

Shea is woken up by blinding light as her curtains are thrown open.  A woman’s exciting chattering hits her ears.  Her head throbs and she covers her head with her pillow.  Her body aches from all the dancing and she is sure she has blisters on her feet.

“Inquisitor, are you listening to me?

“No, I’m asleep.”

“We have so much to do today!  We must get started right away!”

“Stop yelling.”

“Are you feeling ill?”

Shea sighs.  _Oh joy a way out._   “Terribly.  I was throwing up all night.  I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me.”

“Oh dear.  I can work with this.  You rest and I’ll try to rearrange the schedule.”  She starts to hurry out of the room.

“Josie.”

“Yes?”

“Curtains.”

“Oh yes.  Sorry.”  She pulls the curtains closed and rushes out of the room.  Shea smiles to herself.  She wonders how many times that will work.  Could she make it last all day?  She is warm and still tired.  She just wants to stay in bed all day.  She doesn’t want to have to deal with the aftermath of dancing and all the gossip about whom is sleeping with whom.  Just a nice quiet day in bed is all she asked for.

Just as she’s about to fall back asleep, her door flies open.  “Inquisitor!”

“Why does everyone keep yelling?”

“Josie says you are ill.”

“Yes, Leliana.  Did you have to wake me up to check?”

“I wanted to see if you needed anything.”

“Yes.  Sleep.”

“As you wish.”  The door slams closed.  She quickly jumps out of bed and locks her door.  She crawls back under her blankets and covers her head.  She gets comfortable and sighs happily.  She is moments from sleep when someone knocks on her door.  She grumbles and throws the covers off herself.

She stomps to the door and flings it open.  “What?!”

Hawke smirks, “Did I wake you?”

“What does it look like?”

“Everyone is waiting for you downstairs.  Apparently you have some orders to issue to the whole of the Inquisition.”

“And why were you sent to deliver this message?”

“They figured you’d be less likely to kill me for disturbing you.”

“They were wrong.  Tell them I’ll deal with this shit later.  I’m sleeping.”  She slams the door in his face and starts for her bed again.  She only takes a few steps before there’s another knock at the door.  “Ugh!”  She flings it open, “What now?!”

Cassandra it standing there.  “I’m sorry to bother you.  But we really need you downstairs.”

“Oh Maker’s balls!  Fine!  Who needs sleep?  Not me apparently.  Let me get dressed.”  She slams the door and considers just going back to bed, but there will be no end to the disruptions so she might as well get it over with so she can come back when it’s over.  She throws her hair up in a ponytail.  She finds her uniform and sighs.  _Where has this been hiding?_ She quickly puts it on and laces up her boots. She takes a breath to calm herself and then flings her door open.  She walks down the hall towards the stairs.  She stops at the top and watches her friends gathered at the bottom.  They all seem happy and rested.  She wishes she could say the same.  She goes down the stairs and stops a few from the bottom so she can see everyone and they can see her.  They all quiet down.

“First, I need to make you all aware of some orders I issued late last night.  Commander Cullen has been ordered to stop taking lyrium.  Anyone caught giving it to him will be charged and punished for disobeying a direct order.  Any questions?”  No one says anything.  “Great.  Now, what is so urgent that I needed to be here?”

Josephine steps forward. “There is much to do.  The masquerade is only a couple of days away.”

Leliana steps forward, “More importantly we’ve receive reports that Venatori have been spotted in the city.  My scouts inside the Winter Palace have reported that tensions are high.  We believe that the attempt will be made during the peace talks.”

She sighs, “We already figured that.  I get the feeling there is something you’re keeping to yourselves.  Such as why you’ve gathered everyone in the foyer to discuss this?”

Cullen steps forward and holds out a report to her.  She comes down the stairs and takes it from him.  “To summarize for everyone here, some of my men as well as some of your brother’s men have been murdered.  We believe this is an attempt to scare us off.  But it is my personal opinion that someone is trying to get in here to take you out.  They were killed with the same poison that they tried to use on us.”

She looks up at him.  “I thought this had been resolved.”

Leliana shakes her head, “We never caught the would-be assassin.  They disappeared before we could figure out who was responsible.  We’re having everything checked in the villa to make sure nothing else is poisoned.  But we needed to bring this to the attention of everyone so they will use caution when consuming anything.  When Josephine said you were ill, we feared you had been…”

“I’m not ill.  I just wanted to sleep in.  I’m perfectly fine.”  They all sigh in relief.  “I apologize for worrying you all.  How are our people back at Skyhold?”

Cassandra steps forward, “I have sent a message to my people there and they are checking the supplies as well.  As far as I know, everything is fully operational and safe there.”

“This might cause a problem, but I’d like to send some of you back.  You’d need to leave right away.  We need to protect our people.  Close ranks.  Yet we must not appear to be shaken by this.  Did these men have families?”

Josephine nods, “We’ve already sent word to their next of kin.”

Brandon steps forward next, “When this meeting is completed, I need to have a word with you and your advisors.  This attack has effected somethings that I need to discuss privately.”

She nods, “Is there anything else?”  No one responds.  “Alright.  Will meet in my study.  I need to figure out who I’m sending back to Skyhold.  It won’t take long.”  The advisors, Brandon, and anyone not in the inner circle leaves.  “Cassandra, as Seneschal, I need you to go back.  I need Dorian, Varric, Vivienne, and Bull to stay here.  The rest will accompany Cassandra back to Skyhold.  You need to leave quickly, so pack and finish whatever business you need to.  You have an hour.”  Cassandra, Blackwall, Sera, Cole, and Solas head up the stairs.  “As for the rest of you, I’m sure Josie has plans for you all so be sure to make yourselves available.  We’re all officially targets in this plan and it makes me think we have a spy among us.  Bull, I need you and the Chargers to do what you do best until we go to the Winter Palace.  Vivienne, reach out to your contacts and let it be known that the Inquisition is still strong and we don’t take threats laying down.  Varric, I need you and Hawke to make public appearances.  Book signings, story time at a tavern, make as much noise as you can.  You two will distract from what the Inquisition is doing in the city.  Dorian, I need you to team up with Josephine.  She wants us to blend in with the Orlesians, match their fashions, but I think we need a new plan.  We should be recognized as members of the Inquisition.  Help her come up with attire that looks more uniform.  They don’t have to be actual uniforms, but maybe the same aesthetic and/or color.  Unlike everyone else, we won’t be wearing masks.  We’re not hiding.  We’re making a statement.  Everyone got that?”  They all nod.  “Excellent.  If you find out anything useful, let Leliana know right away.  Tell her personally.  We don’t know how the poison got in, so we can’t be too careful.”  They all split off to do start their assigned tasks and Shea heads up the stairs.

She goes to her room and closes her door, locking it behind her.  The door to the private study is already open.  She goes through it and closes it behind her.  They are all seated around the table in the center of the room.  She sits next to Brandon.  “I’ve got the others on their own missions, but they will be available if we need them.  Now, Brandon.  What did you need to discuss with us?”

“I received a raven this morning that father has died.  I have to get back to Ostwick right away.  My people suspect foul play.  And after some of my personal guard were killed here, I would have to agree.  I have had my invitations transferred to you, Shea.  You won’t have a problem getting into the Winter Palace without me.  Furthermore, Grand Duke Gaspard has offered to take my place us your escort.”

Josephine gasps, “That’s huge news.  It could send a message that we are siding with him in the civil war.”

Shea smirks, “Not necessarily.  He will try to turn my walking with him to his favor.  He knows we have sway and can be powerful friends or dangerous enemies.  This gives us an advantage in the Game.  People will watch us and listen to us more closely.  That includes The Empress and this elven ambassador… Briala.  If I can play well enough, no one will know whose side we’re on until we actually make the declaration.”

Leliana smiles back at her, “You’re right.  It’s perfect.  The approval of the court is a powerful tool.  Just being with him will already give us points.”

Shea looks over at Brandon.  He looks sad and worried.  “I’m sorry about father.”

“He had his flaws, but he was still a good man.”

“Are you worried about your own safety?”

“Honestly, yes.  It’s one of the reasons I’m going back.”

Cullen clears his throat.  “I can send some of our men to bolster your guard.  They can meet you at the port in Jadar.”

Shea finally brings herself to look at him.  His response surprises her, but she pushes the feeling aside.  He is thinking like a commander looking to protect an asset to the Inquisition.  Brandon feels a weight lift from his shoulders.  “If you can spare them, I would greatly appreciate it.  With only one living heir, who has major responsibilities of her own, I need to make sure I stay alive.  I not good to anyone dead.”

Cullen nods, “Of course we can spare them.  Not only are you an ally, but you are Shea’s brother.  We’re glad to do what we can to help.”

Shea shakes her head.  He is full of surprises today.  Looking at him, it seems like he is more himself.  She can see hints of his normal eye color and could even see him struggle slightly to be civil to her brother.  “Perhaps, Brandon could leave with Cassandra and the others.  She could escort him to Skyhold and meet our men there.  Then he’s be more protected on the road.”

Cullen nods, “An excellent idea, Inquisitor.  Attackers on the road might be less inclined if they travel in force.  A combination of our people and his.”

Brandon smiles, “I feel a lot better about this.  Thank you.”  They wrap up the meeting.  Her advisors rush off to get work done, but Brandon hangs back.  “Do you have a moment?”

“Sure.  Something on your mind?”

“I… uh… I hope you won’t be angry at me.  But some… things happened last night that I thought you should know.”

She sits back down in her chair and crosses her legs.  “Go on.”

He paces the room and runs his hand through his hair.  “I… uh… I’ve met someone.  Well… technically we met a week and a half ago, but I didn’t really _see_ her until last night.  There was this… spark… when I danced with her last night… and we… uh… spent the night together.”

“Why would that make me angry?”

He smirks and blushes, “Well… you know her.  Short hair… quick to anger…”

“Cassandra?!  You slept with Cassandra?!”

“Yes.  But I… think it’s more than just that.  We talked all night.  I haven’t slept.  I’ve been thinking about her nonstop.  You know between the whole someone might be trying to kill me thing.  I don’t know.  I can’t explain it.  I’m drawn to her.  And the weird things is… she would check off all of father’s boxes.  She doesn’t claim your lineage, but that’s neither here nor there.  I mean it’s really too soon to say if it would work out, what with the distance and our responsibilities and hardly knowing each other.  I don’t even know what she thinks of me.  I mean what if she hates that I’m a noble?  Not just a noble but a _Bann_.  What if she doesn’t like Marchers?  Or she thinks I’m too refined?”

Shea stands and makes him stop pacing.  “You’re rambling.”

“Sorry.  I just… I’ve only _really_ known her a few hours now, but I just want to… be with her, you know what I mean?  We just clicked.  Or at least I think we just clicked.  What should I do?  Should I tell her I want to maybe pursue something more?  Just leave it as is?  What would you do?”

She sighs and sits back down.  “I may not be the best person to ask about this.  My personal life is a bit of a mess right now.  If you really care about her, you should say something.”

“I don’t think I’m brave enough for that… wait.  How is your personal life a mess?  I thought you were focused on the Inquisition?”

“I am.  But until yesterday, I was in a relationship.  A serious one.  But we’re not talking about me.”

He sits down and turns his chair to face her.  “Shit.  And here I am going on and on about my attraction to someone.  What happened?  Why aren’t you still with this person?”

“He broke up with me.  I really don’t want to talk about it.  Your problem is something I might be able to do something about.  Despite our past, I want you to be happy.  She deserves that too.  I could talk to her for you.  See how she feels.”

He shakes his head, “No.  I need to man up.  Do it myself.”

“You should also probably get ready to leave.  They are leaving in less than an hour.”

“So... are you giving me your blessing on this?”

She shrugs, “It’s not my life.  I can’t make those decisions for either of you.  Your personal lives are none of my business.”

“Do you still want to be with that guy who dumped you?”

“More than anything.”

“Want my advice?  As a man?”

“Sure.”

“Jealousy is a powerful tool, but a dangerous one.  It could make him want you back or push him into the arms of another to make you jealous in return.  Instead, make yourself as appealing as possible and then ignore every other man in the world.  Turning down dance partners, standing by yourself, not drinking anything, turning down men who offer you drinks.  Being completely, politely, and possibly loudly disinterested in anyone but him.  You draw a line in the sand and declare that only he may cross it.”

“And that really works?”

“I would work on me.  Now that I think about it, Cassandra unintentionally did that to me.  She looked ravishing last night, yet turned down every man who offered to dance with her.  Yet the only one who got her to was me.”  He laughs.  “Well, I think I can safely say I’m not afraid to talk to her anymore.  She hooked me and reeled me in.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Give it a shot.  I bet you’ll succeed.”

“Thank you.”

He bows to her.  “Now if you’ll excuse me I need to confess my undying love for a woman I just met.”  He walks out of her study with a bounce in his step.  She can’t help but smile.  She may not be close to him anymore and sometimes he still makes her skin crawl, but she is happy for him.  The man she just talked to is not the boy who had made so many mistakes.  Her stomach rumbles.  She smirks.  _As appealing as possible huh?_   She flings open the wardrobe and flips through the clothes.  She pulls out skin tight black pants, black leather knee high heeled boots, a blousy off the shoulder shirt, and the belted vest from one of the Orlesian ball gowns.  The beauty of this vest is that it works just like a corset you didn’t have to have anyone pull the strings for you. It is blue, like her eyes, with silver accents.  She looks at herself in the mirror.  Her make up still looks good from the night before, but her lips need to be touched up.  Her hair has grown out some since she last cut it off.  It is long enough to braid and pin up.  Sometime during the night, Dorian must have returned her necklace, because it is sitting on a self in the wardrobe.  She puts it on.  It will have to do under short notice.  She feels sexy, but not overtly so. _Alrighty.  Let’s go get him._

She opens her door and goes out into the hall.  She has work to do, so instead of going off to find him.  She’d let him find her.  When she gets downstairs, the people leaving are gathered with their belongings in the foyer.  Sera sees her first.  “Ugh!  How do you keep gettin’ hotter?  Woof!”

“Thank you for that, Sera.  Is everyone ready to leave?”

Cassandra walks up to her, “Yes.  Just waiting on your brother.”

Shea smirks, “Has he talked to you yet?”

“No.  Why?  Did he say something to you?”

“A few things.”

“Are you ok with what happened?”

Shea laughs, “Cassandra.  I don’t care who you sleep with.  You are both adults, you don’t need my approval.  Though I think you may have charmed him a little too well.  He’s smitten.”

“Smitten?  You mean he wants more?”

“I’ll let him tell you all about it.”  She sees Brandon coming down the stairs.  “Speaking of…”

“Ladies.”  He bows slightly to them.

“Brandon, I was thinking about your security on the road and I think maybe you should ride in one of our carriages with Cassandra instead of yours.  You’d be much… _safer_.”  Cassandra’s eyes go wide and Brandon blushes. “Have a safe trip.  Let me know when you arrive at Skyhold and then Brandon if you’ll let me know when you get back to Ostwick.”  They nod.  She smirks and saunters off.  She has a seat at the dining room table.  A servant scurries over.

“Inquisitor.  Would you like something to eat?”

“Yes.  I’m not picky.  Whatever is available is fine.”

The servant bows, “It’ll be right out, m’lady.”

Shea sits back in her chair and kicks her feet up on the chair next to her.  Someone clears their throat.  She grins to herself and turns her head.  “Hello, Commander.  What can I do for you?”

He sits down across from her at the table.  “I wanted to update you on our status with our men in Halamshiral.”

She puts her feet on the floor and leans forward on the table.  She watches his eyes drink her in.  “I’m listening.”

“We… I… uh… have elected to pull some men back from the Winter Palace to bolster the villa after losing your brother’s men.  Bull has offered the Chargers if I need to…” she runs her fingers along the thin chain of her necklace.  His eyes follow the movement, “to keep my men in place.  What do you think?”

“I think having the Chargers guard the villa is a great idea.  We need your men ready to move once we enter the Winter Palace in a couple of days.  If they are hidden, then keep them hidden until we need them.”  The servant brings her a plate of breakfast food.  “Have you eaten this morning, Commander?”

“No, I’ve been…”

“Excuse me.”  The servant turns around, “I’m sorry, what was your name?”

He bows, “Sven, m’lady.”

“Sven.  Could you please bring the Commander something to eat?”

“With pleasure.” He bows and leaves.

She spears a piece of sausage with a fork and pops it in her mouth.  “Inquisitor, I have a thousand…”

“Things to do.  I know.  But you need to eat.”  The servant Sven sets a plate in front of him.  “No sense letting it go to waste.”

“I suppose not.”  They eat in silence.  She continues leaning forward and smirks every time she sees his eyes flicker over to her.

 _What is she doing?  Is she trying to seduce me?_   He shakes his head.  She clearly isn’t giving up.  He feels a bit more like himself today, though his veins are still singing.

“So… last night was eventful.”

He looks up from his plate.  “Which events are you referring to?”

“Dancing, drinking, people going off to have a bit of fun afterwards.”

“I noticed that.  The halls were… lively.”

“That’s one word for it.  I’m not sure of all the pairings, but I happen to know that my brother is quite taken with a certain Seeker.”

“Really?”

“They seem to have hit it off.  If Brandon has his way, she might be helping him rule Ostwick sometime in the future.”

He chuckles, “Oh, I’m sure she’ll love that.”

Shea’s heart suddenly feels very light.  The corner of his eyes crinkle as he laughs.  His eyes are brighter. “Can you just imagine?  Cassandra sitting on a throne, being pestered by the locals about some menial dispute?”

“There would be a lot more assaults on nobles in the area.”

Shea laughs, “Oh Maker.  Brandon wants kids.  He’s desperate for heirs.  Can you imagine Cassandra trying to raise children while he rules the city?”

He laughs, “Imagine her trying to wrangle a couple of noble brats while also trying to rebuild the Seekers.”

“You know she’d make some trainee do it.  Tell them it was all a part of learning to control your emotions in trying times.”  They both laugh and Shea wipes a tear from her eye. “Ah but it’ll probably be long distance for now.  But he’s smitten.  He kept going on and on and on about her this morning.”

“It might end up staying long distance.”

“Which is unfortunate.  They looked great together.  He’s the only one who could get her to dance.”

“I know how she feels.  I’m not that into dancing either.”

“Really?  Not even if you had the right dance partner?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know how.  It’s not exactly part of my training.”  She sighs as she watches him slip back into his serious self.  She has made some progress at least.  “Thank you for the meal.  I should get back to work.”  He pushes back from the table and starts to walk away.  She stands up.

“Cullen?”

He turns back to her.  “Yes?”

“Are you… how are you feeling today?”

“I’m fine, Inquisitor.  I just have a lot on my plate today.”  He leaves the dining room.  She sits back in her chair and leans forward on the table.  She pushes the food around on her plate and sighs.

He stops in the doorway and looks back at her.  She is trying so hard to connect with him again.  He almost wants to let her.  Yet he isn’t ready to jump back in.  He still has a long way to go before he will allow himself to be distracted again.  His love for her has blinded him, made him risk everything he has worked for.  If he hadn’t allowed her to skew his priorities so much, then he would never have had to take the lyrium.  It is ultimately his fault, but she has played her part in it.  He shakes his head and goes off to do his work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned in the comments a while back that I had given myself a head start on writing before actually posting because I had a feeling school would start getting in the way of my writing time. I have almost completely caught up to my head start. I am furiously writing during any and all down time! Thanks for sticking with me! This has become much longer than I ever thought possible and also happens to be the longest thing I've ever written (which is saying something since I write plays for a living and wrote a 60 page research paper for one of my grad school classes. Just some info about me lol).
> 
> Feel like I should also mention, since I'm in a "let's tell everyone my life story" mood, that if anyone wants to talk to me, about anything, doesn't even have to be this fic or any other fics I post in the future, I'm on tumblr! It's the same as my handle on here, which is bevans87. Anyway, time to write until the sun comes up since I don't have class tomorrow. Woot! XD
> 
> UPDATED July 24, 2018


	52. Girl All The Bad Guys Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift

Shea continues her efforts for two whole days.  Just when she thinks she’s getting somewhere, he retreats back into Commander mode.  Dorian and Josephine have dragged them all to the tailor’s.  Shea needs to approve the new looks and they all need to be fitted.  Shea sits in a high back chair with a glass of wine in her hand.  She smirks as the tailor tries to force Iron Bull into the jacket that is clearly too small.  “Don’t you have anything larger?”

“No!  Of course not!  Why would I?”

Josephine throws her hands in the air.  “We need to have this finished tonight!  This is why we can’t make last minute changes!”

Shea chuckles, “What was he wearing before?”

Josephine pulls the massive jacket off the rack.  “It’s not right now.  It won’t match our color scheme!”

Shea pulls herself out of the chair to get a closer look at the already made jacket.  The formal coat is black with silver accents and an ugly mustard yellow colored sash and belt.  She looks over at the jacket they are trying to force the qunari into.  “Do we have one of those that fit someone so I can see what it looks like?”

Dorian goes into the changing room and drags Cullen out.  “I feel ridiculous.”

He looks ridiculous.  “Oh dear.  Why those colors?”

Josephine smirks, “Well we thought red and blue made a statement.  It’s classic and fit for royalty.”

“I hate it.”  Josephine and Dorian groan.  “Bull put this one on.  But get rid of that ugly ass sash.”  The tailor makes a noise of offense and Shea rolls her eyes.  He puts it on and it fits perfectly.  She stands back and looks at him.  She grabs her chin with her left hand.  The glow of the mark catches her attention.  She walks up to Bull and rest her hand palm up on his chest.  She turns to the tailor.  “Got any fabric this color?”  He pushes his glasses higher up his nose and grabs her hand.  He studies the color and then rushes off.  He comes back with a few pieces of fabric and grabs her hand again.  He compares the fabrics to her mark and discards the ones that aren’t close enough. When he finds one, he drapes the fabric across Bull’s chest.  They all step back to look at him.

“Well, Josie?”

She nods, “I like it.  It reminds people why we’re useful.”

“Great.  Let’s make that happen for the boys.  Where are we with the girls?” 

Dorian drags Cullen back into the changing area and hands him a black formal jacket.  “Put that on.  No pouting.”  Cullen grumbles but does as he’s told.

Varric, Dorian, Bull, and Cullen are all set as far as attire goes.  So Josie sends three of them away.  Varric chuckles, “So, it appears we’re free.  Now what?”

Bull smiles, “We should find a tavern!  I need to drink after that.”

Cullen sighs, “Agreed.  I still don’t understand why we couldn’t go with armor.  If there’s going to be fighting, there’s no way I’m going to be able to do in that suit.”

“No shit, Curly.  Have they even thought about that?  Unless we sneak stuff in, not only will we not be able to move, but we will also be unarmed.”

Bull grumbles.  “We should do something about that.”

Cullen smirks, “Leave that to me.  I can probably only get enough stuff in for the Inquisitor and three others.  Just uh… don’t tell Leliana.  Because she doesn’t think it is possible.”

Bull claps him on the back.  “Good man!”

“I got an awkward question for you, Curly.”

He chuckles, “Aren’t all your questions awkward, dwarf?”

“Well, that sort of answers it.”

“If the question is if I’m back to the old me then, not quite.  But mostly.  I’m in sort of a middle stage. No cravings but no withdrawal.”

Bull nods, “At least your personality is back.  I was getting tired of Mr. Military.”

They walk into the tavern and someone cheers.  Hawke is in the corner, pint in hand.  “Hey!  There they are!  Free at last!” He points to a waitress.  “You there!  Mmmmm… Marcie right?”  She nods and comes over.  “A round of drinks for my friends here.  Bring one for the templar too!”

Cullen shakes his head, “You know I’m not a templar anymore.”

“You may as well be.  You sure act like one.”

Varric elbows him, “Ease up on Curly, Hawke.  He only did that to save the life of a woman you claim to love.”

“A woman who won’t give me the time of day.  Constantly pining after a man who wants nothing to do with her.”

Cullen sits at the table and takes the drink offered to him.  He takes a drink and processes what Varric just said.  _Hawke loves her?  When did that happen?_

Bull laughs, “Come on!  You didn’t see that coming?  I thought you were supposed to be smart!”

“I am smart!  Very clever!  And impossibly charming.”  He winks at the waitress who blushes and rushes away.  “Women… and men… are constantly throwing themselves at me.  Yet the one woman I actual want is stuck on _him_.”

Varric chuckles, “How does Fenris feel about that?”

Hawke takes a big swig from his pint.  “As long as I don’t fuck other men, he’s fine.  I don’t remember his exact words, but he wanted to be the only _man_ in my life.  Which means that unfortunately, my future with you, my dear friend, will never happen.”

Varric shakes his head, “Are you ever going to give up?”

“Never!  I will not be defeated!”

Cullen looks over at him, “So, she hasn’t caved?  Not even a little bit?”

Bull guffaws. “You really haven’t noticed have you?!”  He continues laughing.  “Showing off all her best parts.”

Hawke raises his glass, “Her curves!  Her tits!  Her ass!”

“Yeah those.  She’s not doing that for anyone but you.”

Hawke swings his arm around Cullen’s shoulders. “You, ser, are an idiot.  And a blind one if you haven’t seen that rack!  She sits across from you and practically shoves them in your face.  I don’t get that.  Trust me.  I’ve tried.”

Varric pushes Hawke’s arm off Cullen.  “Others have tired as well, Curly.  Some smoother than this guy.”  Bull waves his hand in the air.  “Like Tiny over there.  Why is it you aren’t together again?”

Cullen rubs his neck, “I… was…”

Bull slams his drink down.  “Don’t give us that trying to find yourself bullshit! She’s throwing herself at you, dressing in a way I know she hates, because she doesn’t like the attention.  She gets enough people bothering her as the Inquisitor.”

“Curly.  Man to man.  Why haven’t you just gone up to her and apologized for being an idiot?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, “It was the right decision.  I stand by it.”

Hawke laughs, “Yeah right.  The right decision my hairy ass.  You’re just afraid!”

Cullen glares at him, “I thought we were here to fun, but berate me and talk about her.”

Varric sees a stack of cards.  “Tell you what, Curly.  Let’s play a little game.  You win we’ll drop it and you can make all the stupid decisions you want.  But when you lose…”

Bull smiles, “You have to dance with her at the Winter Palace tomorrow.”

Cullen chokes on his drink.  “That’s… I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t dance.”  Hawke starts making clucking noises at him.  Cullen tries to shoo him away.

Varric gets an even better idea.  “Alright.  How ‘bout this?  You win you do whatever you want.  Bull wins you _have_ to dance with her.  Hawke wins you have to tell her that she should be with him since you aren’t interested.”

“What about if you win?”

Varric smirks, “If I win, you have to make a public display in front of the Imperial Court proclaiming your undying love for the Inquisitor.  _And_ you have to memorize the speech I’m going to write for you.  Word for word as loud as you can.”

He looks around the table.  Hawke is wasted, that’s an easy win.  Bull and Varric can bluff as if their lives depend on it.  If he plays Wicked Grace like he plays chess, he will have no problems.  He finishes his drink.  “Fine.  Deal the cards, dwarf.”

***

The big day has arrived.  Josephine and her people have been buzzing around the villa all morning getting everything ready for them to leave.  Shea is the first one to arrive in the dining room.  She is nervous.  They’ve been there for two weeks and this is the first day she is actually nervous about going to the Winter Palace.  The signs of a restless night show on her face.  There are small bags under her eyes and her lids look heavy.  She is so tired that she has forgotten to put on real clothes.

Cullen is the second person to arrive and stops in his tracks in the doorway when he sees her.  His heart is in his throat.  Her head lulls against the chair she is sitting in.  The soft pink silky robe hugging her tightly.  Warmth spreads through him even as the cold morning air blows through the doors that are open to the garden.  He shakes his head to halt his staring.  He approaches the table.  The sound of the chair being pulled across the floor makes her eyes open.

“Morning, Commander.”

“Morning.  I take it you didn’t sleep well?”

She shakes her head.  “What gave me away?”

He smirks, “Well, you were falling asleep when I walked in.”

She yawns and straightens in her chair.  “My mind keeps running around in circles thinking about everything that could go wrong today.  Dangers will be lurking everywhere.  Most of them ones we can’t even see.  It’s going to a hornets nest.”

“You’ll be fine.  You’re experience in the Game is going to help a lot.”

“True.”

They lapse into silence.  His eyes roam her figure.  The silk robe doesn’t leave much to the imagination.  Her nipples are erect from the cold air.  The smooth skin of her chest peeking out from the deep V where the robe comes together.  His mouth waters to taste her flesh.  It’s the first sign he has that he is completely himself again.  The rest of their friends trickle into the dining room.  Conversations start up all around him, but he is too distracted by her beauty and near nakedness to participate.

It seems to him that Shea isn’t even aware that she’s having this effect on him.  Josephine is chattering away with her, discussing the plans for the day.  Breakfast is brought out and they all talk and eat.  Hawke, who is very hungover, is seated next to her.  Cullen notices him staring down at her chest and narrows his eyes.  He suddenly feels very possessive of her, though he knows he has no claim on her.  He clears his throat.  “Josephine.”  She and Shea turn their attention to him.  “I was wondering where you’ve hidden the Inquisitor’s armor and axe.  She may need them this evening and we should make them available for her.”

Josephine laughs, “She can’t wear armor to the ball, Commander.”

“I’m not suggesting that.  But we should be prepared if we except any sort of fighting.”

“How would we possibly get her equipment in?”

He smirks, “Just get me the armor and I’ll handle the rest.”

Leliana leans forward in her seat at the end of the table.  “Commander.  Do you know something I don’t?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I may have found a way to stash some equipment inside the Winter Palace.  That’s my task for the day.”  He puts up his hand to stop Josephine’s protest.  “Don’t worry.  Once that’s done, I’ll be free for you to torture me.”

Shea leans forward in her seat.  The robe is dangerously close to revealing what lies beneath it.  Cullen grabs his glass and downs the contents.  Hawke leans forward to see if he can see anything.  “Commander, if you have a way to get our gear in, then that would make me feel much better about all this.  I’m not too experienced with daggers, so even being armed in my dress, I would feel much safer if we were able to change into something more protected when out of sight of all those prying eyes.”

He smirks.  She has no idea how many prying eyes are on her right now.  By now every man, save Dorian, is leaning in just hoping the robe will fall open just a little more.  She finishes the last bite of her meal and leans back against her chair.  The men collectively groan as the robe closes. 

This is her first indication that it’s working.  She has already started playing the Game and not a single person has noticed.  This is all calculated.  The idea had come to her while she was lying awake in the middle of the night.  Appear to have given up, over play her sleepiness, and act completely oblivious to the fact that she could flash them at any moment.  She picked the thinnest robe she could find, knowing full well the dining room is fairly cold in the morning.  Her apparent exhaustion would only make everyone too polite to point out that she forgot to put on clothes.

She stretches her arms over her head.  The thin fabric pulling in protest against her chest.  She looks over at Josephine, “I wouldn’t have time for a short nap would I?”

Josephine looks down at the board, “Actually, yes.  Maybe an hour, if I move around some things I could maybe buy you two hours.”

“That would be lovely.  I can’t look like this,” motions to her face, “tonight.”

“I agree.  If you look tired, people might think we can’t handle the pressure.”

Shea pushes away from the table.  She tries not to smirk as their eyes fall to her thigh.  This is the first time the vast majority of them have seen her scar.  Cullen feels his blood boil.  He wants to punch every man looking at her like a piece of meat, even though he is guilty of staring as well.  As far as he knew, he was the only one who has seen that scar besides Dorian, who isn’t looking.  She slowly stands and they all wait with baited breath to see if they will catch a glimpse of anything.  The robe closes as she stands.  “Josie, I trust you’ll wake me when you need me?”

“Absolutely.”

She looks at Cullen from the corner of her eye.  He is red and sweating.  His golden honey eyes glowing with desire and rage.  “Should I leave my door unlocked to make it easier for you?”

Josephine nods, “Yes.  I know how stubborn you can be.”

“If you could give me as much time as you can, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“I’ll do my best Inquisitor.”

Shea turns her back on the table and heads for the stairs.  She doesn’t overly exaggerate the movement of her hips, because that would give her away, but she does add a sway to her walk.  It takes her back to the early days back at Haven.  The flirting war that ended rather quickly when he made the first sexual move after his head injury.  She smirks as she ascends the stairs.  She takes one final look over her shoulder.  None of them are hiding the fact that they are watching her.  Even Varric has his eyes glued on her.  She continues on to her room, hoping this final ploy will break him and he’ll come running to her room.

The men who watched her, Cullen, Hawke, Varric, and Bull, all settle back into their chairs and shift around trying to regain control of themselves.  Dorian, Josephine, Leliana, and Vivienne can’t hold their laughter in anymore.  The four of them burst, their laughter echoing off the walls.  Cullen blushes and rubs his neck.  Cullen would have chased after her, but that would mean revealing his erection to the group.

Josie holds her side, “The look on your faces!”

Dorian chuckles, “Is that drool, Amatus?”

Vivienne takes a sip of her drink, “I hear she’s single now, my dears.  Which of you is confident enough to follow her?”  She looks over at Hawke who is sitting next to her.  She smirks at him and he scoots closer to the table.

Varric clears his throat.  “I think we’ve been played.”

Leliana laughs with renewed vigor, “You’re just now figuring that out?  Men.  So simple minded.”

Dorian smirks, “Not all of us, darling.”

Bull smolders at Dorian, “Are you done eating?”

“And that is my cue.”  Dorian pushes back from the table and saunters from the room, Bull hot on his heels.

Josephine calls after them, “Try not get too worn out!  We need you alert tonight!”  More laughter echoes in the dining hall.  Once they’ve calmed down, she turns her attention to Cullen, “Are you going to there or not?”

He looks over at her.  “What are you talking about?  She’s going to take a nap.”

“A little makeup goes a long way, Commander.  She slept perfectly fine last night.  She told me so when I woke her up.”

Varric shakes his head, “I think Cub needs a new nickname.”

Hawke nods, “Yeah.  The creature that just left this room is definitely not a cub.”  He glances over at Cullen.  “Are you seriously still just sitting there?”

His eyes narrow, “Let me remind you, Hawke, that I won that game last night.  What I do is my choice.”

Hawke groans and shifts in his seat.  “There is a naked goddess up there.  Waiting.  Ready.  And you’re telling me you don’t want her?  If so, please give me permission to go up there.  Because _someone_ needs to take advantage of this opportunity.”

“Like I would ever say that.”

Hawke slams his hands on the table and stands.  “Seriously man?!  What is wrong with you?”

Now that he is standing, everyone can see how turned on Hawke is because of her display.  Varric chuckles and turns to face Cullen. “He has a point, Curly.  That women is throwing herself at you and you’ve done nothing about it.”

Vivienne sets her napkin on the table, “It’s quite sad really.  Poor girl.  If you aren’t going to act, at least tell her so someone else can.  Because clearly he wants to.”

Leliana puts up her hand, “Alright.  I think we’ve involved ourselves in the Commander’s personal life enough for one day.  We’ve got work to do.  Josie, did Hawke go to any fittings while here?”

Josephine gasps. “No!  What are you going to wear?”

He rolls his eyes, “I have a suit, Lady Ambassador.  I’m not a heathen.”

She quickly stands, “I want to see it.  Though you are not an official member of the Inquisition, you are going with us and I must make sure you look presentable.”

He straightens, “Fine.  Right this way.”

She follows him out of the dining hall, “Now, about your beard…” He groans loudly as he climbs the stairs.

Varric stands, “I should probably go get Bianca ready.  I’m trusting that you’re going to take good care of her, Curly.”

He nods.  “Of course.”  Varric comes up to him and pats him on the shoulder.  “I know this is your choice, but seriously.  Just go up there and at least tell her it’s not going to happen.”

“I… have other things to do…”  Varric rolls his eyes and leaves the dining room.  Vivienne leaves without saying anything.  Cullen looks over to Leliana.  “I’m sure you have something to say.”

“You’ve clearly decided to be stubborn with this whole thing.  I don’t see why.  You both still obviously have feelings for each other.  What I don’t understand is why you’re fighting it?  Do you even know anymore?”

“I… should go.”

“Cullen.  My advice has never lead you down a path you didn’t like, right?”  He nods.  “Then take my advice now.  Go to her and tell her the truth.  The real reason you are forcing this separation.  Tell her before it’s too late.”  Leliana leaves the dining room and leaves him sitting by himself.  He isn’t sure which truth Leliana is referring to.  She is right that he is being stubborn by not going to Shea.  It dawns on him what Leliana is trying to get at.  The truth is he is afraid of leaving her to pick up the pieces if he dies.  The withdrawal could kill him.  He is worried about her seeing his pain and not being able to do anything.  He has always known who he is, even if the lyrium hid that for a while.  He knows how it feels to watch the person you love die and not be able to do anything about it.  He is protecting her from that.  If she doesn’t see it happen, she might be able to move on.  He should tell her that.

He pushes back from the table and rushes up the stairs before he has a chance to change his mind.  He comes to a stop outside her door.  Does he just walk in or knock?  He opts for knocking.

The soft knock on the door makes her jump.  She is laying naked on the couch.  The knock makes her assume it’s not Cullen.  He would have gotten the message about the unlocked door.  “Just a minute!”  She grabs the robe and wraps it around herself.  She makes sure it is firmly in place.  She doubles checks that she is covered in the mirror.  She opens the door.  His back is turned as if readying himself to walk away.  “Cullen?”

He sighs.  His mind and heart are still warring with themselves.  His heart telling him to tell her, confess everything, then let her decide.  His mind telling him to walk away, keep it to himself, protect her from the pain. 

When he doesn’t turn around right away, she touches his shoulder.  “Cullen?”  His heart wins out.  More than wins out, it takes over.  He spins and grabs her face, pressing his lips against hers.  Her arms fly around him, holding onto him as if he were a ghost who could vanish at any moment.  He backs her into the room and kicks the door closed.  He pulls his lips from hers and she tries to pull him back to her.

“Wait.  I didn’t come here to…”  He kisses her.  They trip and fall onto the couch.  He pulls back from her again.  “I came to talk not…”

“Then what?  Because it feels like…”

“I have things to say.  Important things.  I feel I need to really explain why…”

She pushes him off of her.  She stands and straightens her robe.  “Then say whatever it is.”

He searches the ocean of her eyes to figure out what she’s thinking.  She has gotten better at hiding her feelings from him or maybe he is out of practice because it’s been about a week since he’s actually looked into them.  “Shea.  I… have my reasons for… that is to say that I want you to know my reasons… the real reasons… that is… if you want to…”

His stammering makes her soften.  She can see it in his eyes.  He is back.  He isn’t being controlled by it anymore.  She sits down next to him and takes his hand.  “Of course, I do.  I’ve wanted little else.”

He looks down at their joined hands and plays with her fingers.  “You remember what people told you, and maybe I told you too I don’t know, about how I was after Haven?  After watching you get swallowed whole by a mountain?”  She nods.  She wants to respond verbally, but he’s skittish enough.  She feels like her voice will break his hold on the will he has built up.  “I don’t ever want you to feel the way I did that day.  I… I’ve never said this out loud… but I wanted to kill myself.  To join you in death.”  She covers her mouth in shock and pain.  “That is still very real to me.  The memory of that feeling.  To stand there and watch the woman I love die and not be able to do anything about.”

“Would you have really…?”

He shrugs, “Maybe not right away.  But that’s not the point.  My point is that this feeling, this memory is what really caused me to end it with you.  I was… am trying to protect you from it.  I thought that if I could stall the symptoms long enough, that maybe you would move on to someone else, then you wouldn’t be alone when they finally kick in.  We’ve all been down playing the seriousness of these symptoms.  Cassandra and Leliana have seen me in the thick of it.  There is a very real chance… that I could die.  And… I didn’t… don’t want you to have to feel the way I did.  Watching the person you love die and not being able to do anything about it.”

She can’t think of a thing to say.  Her brain keeps throwing his phrases back at her.  He watches the emotions rapidly change in her face as she processes what he said.  She suddenly looks up at him and launches herself at his face.  Her lips crash into his.  Her hands gripping the back of his head.  He lets her kiss him until she pulls away.  “Cullen.  There is no amount of hurt in the world that would make me regret a single moment with you.  We are more alike than you’d like to believe.  When you thought I died, you may have wanted to as well, but you kept going.  There was a job to do.  I should probably remind you that I did lose you.  The real you that moment you took that lyrium.  And then again when you left me standing in the garden.  I have felt what life is without you and I won’t do it again.  I am with you until death takes us from each other.  To hell with the pain, to hell with the cost.  I’m putting my foot down and I’m not letting you push me away again.”  He kisses her and pulls her tight against him.  She pulls back slightly, “Is that a yes?”

He smirks, “Was there a question there that I missed?”

“No more distance?  No more separation?  No more denying our feelings?  You and me.  A team.  Together until we die or legitimately tire of each other?”

He kisses her lightly.  “Yes.”

“Thank the Maker!  This shit was getting really tiring.  I mean do you know how fucking uncomfortable is it to parade yourself around in front of a group of men who haven’t been laid in a very long time?  Especially when one of those men tells you, in great detail, the things he wants to do you, and also how much in love with you they are?”

He chuckles, “You’d be surprised.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have met Dorian haven’t you?”

“Oh.  He’s harmless!  Hawke on the other hand… he’s like a dog with a bone.”

“He’s actually more behaved than you give him credit for.  He kept giving me every opportunity to stake my claim.  Maker help you if you had actually given in to him.  He was waiting for the tiniest yes from you.”

“It would never have happened… well maybe before you cured those pesky side effects.”

“You know about that?”

“You can’t poke around in someone’s brain without them noticing.  And you weren’t exactly subtle about it.  I woke up when you started, but knew not to move.”

He shakes his head, “I can’t get anything past you.”

“Nope.”  She snuggles in against his chest, grateful he isn’t wearing his armor.  “Don’t feel bad, it’s just because I’m smarter than you.”

He chuckles, “Is that so?”

“Yep.  My plan worked after all.”

“I would have come back to you eventually.”

“You say that now.”

He hooks his finger under her chin and makes her look up at him.  “I said that before.  It was never permanent.  Once the worst had passed, I would have come crawling back.”

“I would have liked to see that.”

“I didn’t mean that literally.”

“Sure, sure.”  She smiles up at him.  “Is it at all weird how easy it is to just jump right back in like nothing happened?”

“Maybe a little.  I think it’s the whole dynamic of our relationship.  You go off traveling all the time.  We’re used to distance.  Being apart for weeks at a time.  Then we fall into the same routine.”

She chuckles, “Oh so we’re routine now?”

“I…  I didn’t mean… that’s not what I…”  She snickers.  He shakes his head and kisses the top of her head.  “Are we… good?”

“I should probably be mad at you.  But I can’t bring myself to even pretend to be.  I’m just glad that this foolishness is over.”

“I still worry about you having to watch me…”

She presses her finger against his lips.  “Just enjoy the moment, grumpy.”

“Yes, love.”

She chuckles, “What if that’s what I started calling you?  Like your little pet name for me?”

“Grumpy?”

“Yeah.”

“Please don’t.  Love is cute and expresses how I feel about you.”

“But you are quite grumpy.”

“Then maybe I should start calling you ‘ass’, because you’re stubborn like one.”

She playfully hits him, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“You’re right.  Saying things like, ‘Kiss me, ass’ just doesn’t have the same ring.”

She laughs into his chest.  “That could totally get turned around.  Like they think you’re telling me to kiss your ass.  Which I wouldn’t necessarily be against.  You have a great ass.”

He smirks, “Is that your favorite part of me?  Because you stare at it a lot.”

“I mean… if you’re going to lean over and read reports like that, how am I not supposed to stare at it?  And no.  That’s not my favorite part of you.”

“Oh really?  And what is your favorite part of me?”

She sits up and stares into his eyes.  “Your eyes and the way they crinkle when you smile.”  He flashes her favorite smirk.  “Mmmm… then there’s that smirk.  Your little lopsided grin that makes me melt.”

“Do you know what my favorite part of you is?”

She grins, “I have a pretty good idea.  You like making eyes contact with them.  And sleeping between them.”

“Mmmm… those are on the list, but not my favorite.”

“Is that so?  Then do enlighten me, Commander.”  He moves closer to her and lifts her chin.  He nuzzles the crook of her neck with his nose.  “My neck?  Really?  Of all the things you could like, why my neck?”

“This is the first place I remember kissing you.”  He presses his lips to that spot on her neck and she breathes into his ear.  “I think the first thing I noticed about you were your eyes.”

She smiles, “I saved you from getting hit in the back by a demon.”

“Indeed.  And then proceeded to run into me.”

“Maker that seems so long ago.”

“A lot has happened since that day.  But it was only a few short months ago.”

“It feels like years.  Ages.  I’ll be glad when this is all over and I can actually get some rest without worrying about the world falling apart.”

He kisses her neck again.  “How about…” His lips brush up her neck sending shivers down her spine.  “We just pretend that none of that is happening.”  He presses his lips against her jaw.  “That nothing exists outside of these four walls.”  He brushes lips against hers.  “At least until Josie comes barging in.”

“She can’t barge in if the door is locked.”  Cullen leaps of the couch and charges the door.  Just as he’s about to lock it, someone knocks.  He looks back at her.  “Lock the damn door, Cullen.”

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you.  But we’re looking for the Commander.  We need him for this insane plan he has to get your gear into the Winter Palace.”  He groans and rests his head against the door.

“I forgot about that.  If I don’t do it now, there will be no way to get it in later.”

She stands and wraps her arms around his waist.  “Then I guess you have to go.”

He turns in her arms and takes her face in his hands.  “This isn’t over.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world.  As long as you don’t get any bright ideas about pushing me away again.”

“Never.”

“Then I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’m meeting you all there.  Sneaking troops in takes work.”

“Alright.”

He kisses her long and hard.  Her mouth moves with his.  He pulls away and turns the door handle.  “Shea.”

“Yes, Grumpy?”

He smirks.  “I love you.”

She kisses him again.  His smile broadens and he leaves her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! I know Lyrium Cullen was annoying, but Real Cullen is back now so yay! You all have been leaving amazing comments! I love them so keep them coming!
> 
> UPDATED July 24, 2018


	53. Last Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two flufftastic chapters coming your way!!!
> 
> *** time/pov shift

Shea has been thinking about her last moment with Cullen all night.  Dancing, mingling, and investigating every inch of the Winter Palace.  All peppered with that single thought.  Why didn’t she just say she loved him?  It is true, but she didn’t say it.  Every time she thinks about it she is reminded that she has never said that to him.  It’s always been him.  Her chest tightens.  Next time she’s in the ballroom she should just run up to him and tell him she loves him.  But maybe this isn’t the best place to just scream that for all to hear.

Everything is so intense here.  The Game in full swing and she has to be guarded, but charming and clever.  She soon learns just how much the fate of Orlais is in her hands.  It’s going to come down to who she feels would benefit Orlais as a whole as well as the Inquisition.  The information she has gathered makes them all look like horrible rulers.  She can’t make that decision until she catches whomever is trying to kill Celene.

Shea has also met the infamous Morrigan.  She seems very different for the stories and even from the description she got from Danielle.  She feels that the witch is very smart, and her quick wit and biting tongue are refreshing in this environment.  Another bonus is that she seems to be helping her, which Shea has never turned down, even if she has her own goals like Vivienne.

In her search, Shea has found an elven locket.  She is going through the ballroom looking to talk to Briala and Celene about it when an amusing sight makes her stop.  Cullen is surrounded by nobles.  Both men and women.  By the look on his face, she can tell he is annoyed and frustrated.  She leans on the railing overlooking the dancefloor to watch.

“Commander, what does your family do in Ferelden?”

“We don’t get many Fereldan men in Orlais.  Are they all built like you?”

“The Champion of Kirkwall is here.  He’s from Ferelden, do you know him?”

“I am thrilled you decided not to wear a mask this evening.  It would be a shame to hide that face from the court.”

“I would like to thank the Maker for those pants.”

He presses his back against the wall, “Ser!  Did you just grab my…”

“It was an accident I assure you.”

He looks very distressed.  She finally takes pity on him.  She pushes through the crowd.  “Excuse me, ladies.  And gentlemen.  I need to have a word with my Commander.”

“Oh Inquisitor!  We were just admiring him!  Is he single?”

He grumbles, “I’m standing right here.”

Shea smirks, “You will have to speak with Ambassador Montilyet about that.  The Commander is a very private person.”

A few of them giggle and start to walk off, “I hear they call him the Lion of Honnleath.  I wonder with that’s because of his prowess on the battlefield or in the bedroom.”  More giggling.

He groans.  She steps closer to him.  “Having fun I see?”

“Please tell me that you’ve come to take me with you.  They won’t leave me alone.”

“I did come to save you, but no I’m just stopping by to get some information from Briala and The Empress.”

“Will this thing ever end?  It’s been going for hours.  And I’m pretty sure I’m going to be bruised by the time this is all over.”

She chuckles.  “Bruised?”

He looks sideways at the man standing near him.  He places a hand on her elbow and pulls her towards him, keeping his back firmly pressed against the wall.  “I’ve lost count how many times I’ve been pinched or grabbed.” 

She laughs.  “I’m so sorry you’ve been assaulted.  I’ll make it better once the party ends.”

“Oh?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Have I told you that you look lovely tonight?”  She blushes and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.  Unlike every other member of the inner circle at the ball, she is the only one wearing a dress while the rest wear the formal uniform, black jacket, green sash, gray pants, and silver accents and black boots, that she picked out.  She, however, is wearing a black shimmering, tightly corseted ball gown.  Her shoulders are bare with sleeves wrapped around the top part her arms.  The front is cut so low that she fears if she dances too vigorously, she’ll pop right out of it.  The back is just as low cut.  Her hair is down and curled.  The stylist got a little carried away with trimming the ends and all the curling that her hair just passes her jaw.  She hopes that when all the product is washed out it will be longer.  She hates it this short.  A green sash is wrapped around her waist, which she had daggers hidden in.

“Thank you, but it’s a real pain in the ass to change out of this into armor and then back again without anyone noticing.”

He rubs his butt and smirks, “Did you have to use the phrase?”

She chuckles, “I’m sorry.  I couldn’t resist.”  She looks around to see if there is anyone watching them.  He quickly pulls and handkerchief from his pocket.

“Hold still.”  He gently moves her hair out of the way and wipes blood from the side of her face and neck.  She sees the blood as he folds it up and shoves it his is pocket.

“Ugh.  Thank you.  I thought I had gotten it all.”  She steps in even closer.  He can feel her breath on his face as she speaks.  “Would… you care to dance later?”

“No, thank you.”

She steps back, “Oh.  Ok.”

He stops her retreat.  “Maker.  I’m sorry.  I’ve been saying that all night.  It’s automatic now.  If I knew how, I’d be more than happy to dance with you.”

“You don’t know how?”

He shakes his head, “It’s not really a part of my training.”

“I’d be happy to teach you.”

He shakes his head, “Thank you, but I’ve never had an interest.”

“Suit yourself.  I should get going.  This assassin isn’t going to stop themselves.”  She glances around and quickly kisses him.  He tries to hold her there, but she pulls away before anyone sees and scurries off.

***

The next time Cullen sees her, she is in full armor.  He pushes through the crowd around him and meets her and the other advisors.  “What’s happened?”

“It’s happening now.  Duke Gaspard’s sister, Florianne, that weird woman I danced with earlier, is working for Corypheus.  She has it all planned to kill Celene and frame Gaspard.  I have all the evidence I need to support whomever we want, but I need to act now.”

They quickly discuss her options.  She nods.  “Well, no time like the present.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to have a word with the Grand Duchess.”  She turns on her heal and storms onto the dance floor.  The advisors rush to the railing to watch her make history.  In the middle of her speech, smoke fills the little stage.  When it clears Florianne is gone.  “Damn it!”  Shea rushes up the stairs.  As she blows past them she shouts, “Stay with Celene!”

Cullen is the first to move.  He rushes over to her and bows, “Empress Celene.  The Inquisitor has asked that we keep you safe while she pursues the Grand Duchess.”  He straightens and offers her his arm.  She hooks hers around his and motions to a secluded balcony.  He leads her there as Inquisition soldiers file into the ballroom.  They block off the area where Briala, Gaspard, and now the Empress and Cullen are all standing.

Gaspard approaches them.  “This is an outrage!  You brought soldiers here!”

Cullen has to fight the smirk threatening to spread across his face.  “Yes, ser.  They were only here to make sure the peace talks were just that.  Peaceful.  Their orders were not to engage under any circumstances unless ordered to do so.  The Inquisitor must have ordered them here on her way to catch your sister.”

Briala, an elf, sneers at Gaspard, “How convenient that you have an alibi while you and your sister conspired to have Empress Celene assassinated.”

Gaspard sneers right back, “Me?  How dare you!  I had no knowledge of this!”

Cullen holds up his hands and realizes Celene is still gripping his arm.  “Please.  This bickering gets us nowhere.  Inquisitor Trevelyan said she had evidence that revealed everything.  When she gets back, she will be the one to review it with all of you.”

Celene nods, “If the Inquisitor has vital information, I would like to hear it before jumping to conclusions.”

“So, we’re just supposed to stand here.  Imprisoned by the Inquisition?”

Briala smirks, “They are here for our protective Gaspard.  Unless you feel you have something to hide.”

Cullen listens to them bicker back and forth.  He feels Celene squeeze his arm and he looks over at her.  He can’t see her face because of the mask, but he can see her eyes.  She is terrified.  He moves with her to edge of the balcony.  He whispers to her, “Are you feeling alright, Empress Celene?”

She nods, “Of course, Commander Rutherford.”

“Uh… begging your pardon, your Imperial Majesty, but your grip on my arm begs to differ.”

She looks down at her hand on his arm.  “Does it bother you, ser?”

“Not if it provides some level of comfort.  Ensuring your safety is part of my job tonight after all.”

“Thank you, Commander.  You are very kind.  I will feel much better when I have answers.  Tell me.  I have a very keen eye for things that happen in the ballroom.  Rather, my ladies-in-waiting have a keen eye and by extension so do I.  They noticed a little… exchange between you and Lady Trevelyan.  Tell me, Commander.  Is this a secret affair or are you officially off the market as it were?”

He rubs his neck and blushes.  “Well I… I would say that… yes we are.”

She smiles at him, “The hearts of many nobles will be broken because of this.”

He flashes his signature grin, “I am sure they will live.”

Shea comes up to them.  She bows slightly.  “Apologies for running off so quickly.”  She sees Celene’s death grip on Cullen’s arm.  Either she is attracted to him or scared.  And it had better be the last one.

“Where is my sister?”

“Dead.  She left me little choice.”

Cullen clears his throat, “Perhaps I should leave you to discuss what you’ve found.”  Celene releases his arm.

“Thank you for guarding us, Commander Rutherford.”

He bows to her, “Just doing my job.”  He shots a look of relief to Shea.  “Do you need anything Inquisitor?”

“Everything is fine, Commander.  You can have our men back off now.”

He nods and all but flees the balcony.

***

Shea leans on the railing of one of the large balconies.  Gaspard is going to be executed and Briala and Celene are going to rule together.  It is nice to see that real love could be formed in a hostile environment like this.  She has changed back into her dress.  She thought it would be inappropriate to make some announcement of alliance and peace covered in the blood of Celene’s wound be assassin.  Somehow the energy at the ball has picked up.  More drinking and dancing.  More allies and enemies.  Morrigan is joining them at Skyhold.  She is happy about that, but wonders if she should inform Ferelden’s royal family.  She rubs her temples.  Instead of her plate clearing with all this resolved, the pile of things to do only seems to grow.  But she is closer to getting Corypheus, to finally defeating him.

“There you are.  I’ve been looking for you.”  She smiles as she hears his velvety voice.  He brushes his fingers across her shoulder and then leans next to her.  “You look upset.  Are you… alright?”

She smiles at him and touches his face.  “I’m fine.  Great actually.  I’m just tired.  Tonight has been… long.”

He turns to lean on one arm and face her.  “I, for one, am glad it’s over.  I look forward to being back at Skyhold.”  She closes her eyes and relishes the idea of being home again.  “I… wanted to say… because I didn’t get chance before coming here… that I was… worried about you tonight.  There was more pressure than expected riding on your shoulders.”  He places his hand on her shoulder.  He looks behind him.  The song that is playing is drawing to a close and he was not idle during her talks with Empress Celene after their celebratory speech.  “I…uh… may not get another chance like this.  And I should probably do this while I still have the nerve.  I need to ask you something.”

He takes a few steps back and she turns to face him.  She cocks on eyebrow.  “You need nerve to ask me something?”

He smirks, bows to her, and offers his hand.  “May I have this dance, my lady?”

She places her hand in his and tilts her head, “Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I thought you didn’t dance.”

“What I said was, I didn’t know how.”

“And now?”

He straightens and puts his other hand behind his back.  “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

He tucks her arm under his and escorts her inside.  He finds Dorian leaning on the banister as they planned.  He nods ever so slightly and Dorian rushes over to the band.  Cullen’s heart is beating rapidly.  The lesson wasn’t very long, but Dorian helped him find a simple enough dance and arranged to have the proper music played when he was ready.  He prays to the Maker that he doesn’t step on her feet like he did with Dorian.  He also prays that Dorian keeps the part of them dancing together to himself.

She sees no one but him in this moment.  The other dancers fade away as the gentle melody starts to play.  Soft and slow.  He parts from her at the stairs and walks to the center of the dance floor.  He bows to her, offering his hand.  She walks to stand in front of him.  She curtsies and accepts it.  She doesn’t know this dance.  He is going to have to lead her through it and she is worried that he doesn’t know it either.  He pulls her in close and places his hand on the small of her back.  She takes a quick look around to figure out the starting pose.  He places a finger under her chin and makes her look at him.  He places one of her hands on his bicep and takes the other in his and holds it out to the side.

And then they move.  She body instinctively moving in rhythm with his.  As he spins her out and she notices that the other dancers aren’t doing the same dance that he is.  He spins her back in and dips her slightly, supporting her neck.  She makes eye contact with him and her favorite smirk appears on his face as he takes in her surprise.  As he continues to dance with her, spinning, twirling, graceful and fluid around the dance floor, the dancers slowly clear the floor.  She is suddenly self-conscious as it appears they have left because he is leading them in a dance no one knows but him.  She looks around and he pulls her chin back to him.  She makes eye contact with him and her anxiety melts away.  She follows his lead.  The dance is slow but passionate and beautiful.  He can’t stop smiling.  Dorian said he was a quick study, but his confidence has grown.  He remembers the steps and trusts that he can in fact do this.

She loses herself in this moment as the man who said he can’t dance leads her effortlessly around the dance floor.  She trusts him completely.  She has to.  His subtle moments let her know how spin out or around, how to move.  The elegant up and down motion as they dance and move together.  She imagines this is what it feels like when royalty dances.  The center of attention, the envy of everyone around.  She gets the image of a ship caught in the eye of a storm.  The waves rocking it and the wind spinning it around.  She is the ship, he is the storm.

As the music swells to its conclusion, she can’t tear her eyes away him his face. Even when he twirls her away from him, she locks eyes with him before he spins her back to him.  As if he had done this a hundred times, he spins her out wide, her arm outstretched to her side.  He spins her back in with a flourish, catches her arm to hook it around his waist as he hooks his back around hers.  He grips her waist as his other hand presses against her jaw.  In prefect time with the music, he dips her low, all of her weight supported by his strong arms.  She squeezes his waist with the arm he hooked around him.  Her other hand rests delicately on the floor behind her as the song comes to an end.

Dorian’s voice is the first one she hears.  His cheers so loud she instantly covers her face to hide her blushing.  The rest of the ballroom erupts in applause as he slowly returns her to a standing position.  He steps back from and bows.  She curtsies to him.  He offers his arm and not his hand, signaling he wants her to walk with him instead of dancing again.  She takes his arm and walks off the dance floor.  Her heart is racing and she is out of breath.  He is breathing heavier too, but he isn’t breathless like she is.  He leads her past Dorian who claps him on the back as they pass him.

He continues walking with her through the Winter Palace and motions to a bench in the moonlit garden.  She sits and he sits next to her.  She leans her head to rest on his shoulder.  He hears her chuckle softly.

“Something amusing?”

“Can’t dance, my ass.”

He laughs.  “I had help.”

She takes a deep breath and smiles, “Dorian?”

He nods.  “I know you like to dance.  Well, that’s what I heard anyway.  Then you had that meeting with Celene and Briala that you figured would take a while.  So, I asked him for help.  I wanted to surprise you.  I just hope I didn’t step on your toes or mess up the steps.”

“I am surprised.  Very surprised.  I actually didn’t know that dance.”

“He figured you wouldn’t.  It’s Tevinter.”

She turns to look at him.  Shock rewritten all over her face.  “Did you say Tevinter?”  He nods.  “No wonder everyone left the dance floor.”

“That was the plan.  The funny thing is those dances have the same name and use the same song.  Don’t ask because I don’t remember.  He said most if not all dances are based on a story.  Orlais is obsessed with the idea of two people finding each other and finding love in unlikely places.  Tevinter on the other hand is more interested in the story of the dance stirring something a little more… dramatic.  His words.”

“So, that dance we just did.  What was the story?”

He chuckles, “It about the relationship between a magister… and his magic.”

“Uh… what?”

“That’s really all he said.  He said only a mage could understand it.  The man dancing as the magister is supposed to actually use magic while dancing.  He said quote, ‘The effect is quite stunning and beautiful.’  By the end of it, the female is naked having had her dress slowly burned away.”

“That sounds terrifying.”

“That’s what I said.  But he insisted that the dance is supposed to be romantic.”

“Well, it was definitely that.  And you learned that whole thing while I was in my meeting?”

He nods, “It was a crash course.  Emphasis on crash.  I’m fairly certain I bruised his foot.”  She laughs.  He pushes a curl behind her ear and runs his thumb down her scar.  “I… I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.  I was freaking out the whole time that I was screwing it up.  Or that I was going to step on your dress or your foot.”

“You didn’t.  It was perfect.”

He looks around.  “You know, now that things have calmed down.  I bet we could slip away.  Go back to the villa.  Or…”

“Or?”

“Or we could just go somewhere else.  Get away for a while.  Meet everyone back at Skyhold.”

She grins, “Like run away together?  Somewhere private?”

“We’d leave a note of course, but yes.  Would you… I mean… we don’t have to… it was just…”

She kisses him and he wraps his arms around her.  She moves back to stare into his eyes.  “I’m ready when you are.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?”  He stands and laces his fingers with hers.  He leads her through the palace, making sure to avoid the populated areas.

“Should we get my armor?”

He pauses and looks back at her.  “That’s probably a good idea.  Where’d you leave it?”

She leads him down a back hallway and into the royal wing.  She opens a door to a bedroom and motions to the pile of metal.  He rips the blanket off the bed and casts it aside.  He grabs the top sheet from the bed and spreads it out on the floor.  They pile her armor and her axe onto the sheet.  He ties it into a bundle and slings it over his shoulder.  She takes his hand again and they flee from the Winter Palace.  They make it to the front gates unseen.  The guard at the gate has one of the Inquisition carriages brought around.  They wait and constantly look around to make sure they aren’t seen.  The carriage pulls up and they jump inside.  The driver automatically heads for the villa.

“Ok.  Game plan.  We have the driver wait for us.  We run upstairs, shove anything we want to bring in our trunks, and then meet back down here.”

She nods, “As fast as you possibly can.  We can leave my… armor bundle… in the carriage.”

“The only problem I see is that we’ll have this driver with us.”

“Hmmm… can you drive a carriage?”

He laughs.  “I could try.”

She gasps.  “Wait!  I’ve got it.  We get our stuff.  Change into our armor once we’re back in the carriage.  Tell him to go back to Skyhold.  Then we bail somewhere near where we can buy horses.”

“You mean just jump out of a moving carriage?”

“Good point.  Ok, so maybe we tell him to just drop us somewhere we can buy horses?  And then send him off to Skyhold?”

He laughs again, “Or you change into your armor while I go change into mine.  We leave a note with the driver and we just take a pair of horses from the stables.  There should be extras since your brother left with our people.”

She kisses him.  “Perfect!  What should the note say?”

***

_Dear Members of the Inquisition,_

_We regret to inform you that we have already left Halamshiral.  Please ensure that all of our belongings are returned to Skyhold.  We will meet you there… eventually._

_Sincerely,_

_Commander Cullen Rutherford & Inquisitor Shea Trevelyan_

***

They’ve been riding for days.  Once they can’t see the Winter Palace anymore, they take turns sleeping and leading the horses.  They want to keep moving to gain as much distance from their friends as they can.  His only instructions are to go east and to stay on the road.  She has a hard time sleeping on her horse until he showed her how. 

After a few days, Cullen decides the horses need a rest, so they make a detour to Jadar.  He has her wait outside town since they are trying not to be recognized and her mark gives her away.  He rents a room and goes back for her.  They don’t say much to each other once they get to the room.  Sleeping on a horse isn’t exactly restful.  They fall asleep in their armor.

They sleep until late afternoon and then leave town before anyone notices them too closely.  The whole thing is thrilling.  Running away, sneaking around town, riding through the night.  He leads them back to the road and they continue east.

A few days later, they reach the Imperial Highway at Lake Calenhad.  He feels like they need to rest again, but the only inn he knows of is out of the way.  With little choice, they go to the Lake Calenhad Docks.  It’s a disaster area.

“Cullen, what happened here?”

He points ahead of them, but looks at her.  “See that tower in the distance?”  She nods.  “That’s Kinloch Hold.  Only way to and from it is by boat.”

“That’s Kinloch?  It looks… intimidating.”

“It’s abandoned now.  I’ve had people watching all the circles in case people go seeking refuge.  No one has been there since Moira and Shadow killed those Venatori.”

“Are we… staying there?”

He looks around.  The tavern, The Spoiled Princess, has been burned to the ground.  “That wasn’t the plan.  I didn’t know the tavern had been burned.”

“We could turn back.  Keep going towards… where ever it is you wanted to go.”

He shakes his head.  “We’re headed south.  Unless we turn back and try to get the dwarves to let us into Orzammar, this is our only option.”

“There has to be some small village we can stay in along the way.  The Imperial Highway is populated with merchants.  They have to sell their goods somewhere.”

He looks down at his horse.  He shakes his head.  “They need rest.  And so do we.”

“Are you sure about this?  You haven’t been back here since…”

He dismounts his horse.  “If we find a place to stash the horses, furtherer away from this dock, then we can cross.”

She gets off her horse and touches his arm.  “Cullen.  We don’t have to…”

He places his hand over hers.  “I’ll be fine.  I know the building and can avoid the places that might… aggravate my mind.  It’ll be ok.”

He leads his horse past the burned tavern and furtherer along the lake.  She follows close behind him.  They walk in silence for a while.  He stops in an overgrown area large enough to hide the horses, but also gives them access to water and grass to eat.  He takes her hand and they walk back the way they came.  They walk onto the rickety dock.  A small boat is still tied to the end.  He looks up at the tower for the first time in over decade.  He doesn’t know if it’s the lyrium in his system or having the demon gone, but he doesn’t feel a pain in his head, when the memories of the tower come back to him.  He sighs.  “I think I’m going to be ok.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I was just thinking about the first and last time I saw that tower.  And there was no pain.”

“Wow.  Really?  That’s great!”  He steps in the boat and offers her his hand to help her into it.  They sit and he rows them across the lake.  She looks around at the serene setting.  That feeling fades the closer they get to the tower.  She’s never been inside an actual circle tower.  She had been to The Gallows but not inside the actual circle.  She swallows the lump in her throat.  If he can do this, so can she.

He ties the boat to the scorched dock.  He carefully steps out of the boat, testing the docks stability.  He reaches down to her.  “Be careful.  Seems like someone was trying to make it so no one could dock.”  They walk softly along the dock and then he pushes open the large door to the tower.   “It looks so different.  I didn’t think it would have changed so much.”  She doesn’t respond.  She doesn’t think she needs to.  He is stepping back in time.  She knows just being with him is enough.  He looks over at her as she looks around.  “Would you… like a tour?”

“I… uh… I mean if that’s ok?  This has to be hard.”

“Well, I know one place we won’t be going, but I think the first few floors should be ok.”  He leads her around the tower.  Curiousity takes hold of him and he heads through a door leading to lower chambers.  “This acted mostly as storage.  Those suits of armor are enchanted.  If any mage who wasn’t the First Enchanter came down here, they’d attack because,” he pushes open a heavy door. “Hmm… well that’s odd.  This should be sealed.  Maybe the magic has faded or was over ridden?  In any case, this is where the phylacteries are kept.  Well, the ones belonging to the apprentices.  After the harrowing, the mage’s phylactery is sent to Denerim.  I’m surprised they are still here.  I figured the mages would have destroyed them or the templars would have taken them.”  He picks up one of the vials.  He smirks.  “This one is Minaeve’s.” He drops it on the ground and crushes it under his boot.

“Did you enjoy that?”

“Immensely.”

“Should we see if any more of our people’s phylacteries are here?”

“I… I don’t know all of their names.”

“What would be the down side of just… destroying them all?”

He looks over at her.  He honestly doesn’t know how to answer her question.  “Well… if the circles are reformed and mages are made to live in the tower again, I’m sure the templars would just make more.  Who knows how many of these people are actually still alive?  And we saved a lot of mages.  I’m sure a large number of our people are actually from here.  And as I said, these are all just apprentices.”

“What are you trying to get at?”

He scratches his overgrown stubble.  “Let’s do it.”

“That’s not very templar like.”

“Good.”  He grabs hold of the side of a shelf and pulls the whole thing down.  Glass shatters on the floor.  Shea goes over to another shelf and copies his action.  They smashed every single vial in the room.  Once they are done, they stand back and admire their anarchy.  “I wonder if Alistair has thought to do this to Danielle.  Most wardens think the taint in their blood makes their phylactery useless, but that’s not true.  They are outside of the Chantry’s reach as far as the law is concerned, but that doesn’t stop a templar from using it if they really wanted to.  Now that I think about it, mages everywhere are in danger of being hunted by red templars.  We should probably do something about that.”

“I hardly think people would agree to destroy every phylactery in Thedas.”

“You’re probably right. And it’s probably best if we keep this to ourselves.  Some our more traditional friends wouldn’t approve.”

He leads her out of the room and back up there stairs.  He shows her where the apprentices lived, which also happens to be the hallway he patrolled.  They go up the stairs and he shows her where the vast library used to be.  The shelves now bare.  They find the Venatori bodies here.  “This must be where they found the information about… Emeric.”

“It would appear so.”

“So, where did the templars sleep?”

“Oh.  Uh… we spread out.  Some on every floor.  Those of higher rank were higher up.  Had private rooms and such.  I was on the ground floor.  On the opposite side of the tower from the apprentices.  In a room with other men.  I had that room to myself after the Blight.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I finished grieving them long ago.  At the top of the tower is the harrowing chamber, you can go up there if you want, but I can’t.”

“Is that where…?”

“Just outside it.  Yes.”

“I don’t need to see that.”

“Alright.  Well, that’s about it.  As far as the tour is concerned.”

They walk up another set of the stairs together.  “So, are all circles like this?”

“You mean stone and towers?  No.  The Gallows was very much a prison.  Mages with cells for rooms.  Locked in every night.  But I’ve heard that other circles, like the one Vivienne is from or even Starkhaven before it burned down, were great places for mages.  They were still confined for the most part, but they were encouraged to learn.  The Starkhaven mages did not do well in Kirkwall.  More than a few of them were made tranquil for voicing their opinions… among other things too, but Meredith was always quick to use tranquility as punishment.  Something that I didn’t and don’t agree with no matter what my feelings were towards mages at the time.”

“What was Ostwick’s circle like?”

“I can’t say for sure, but your uncle ran a tight ship.  That’s why I asked him for help.  The failed harrowings were low and tranquility rate even lower.  He only had a couple of mages try to escape, but even then his punishment was less severe than most.”

He motions ahead of him and she pushes the door in front of her.  The room is large and very dusty.  There is a large bed and a desk with chairs in front and behind it.  “Whose room was this?”

“The Knight-Captain’s.  In other words, mine before I left for Kirkwall.  I only lived here a few days.  Long story short.  I was transferred to Kirkwall and promoted in the same move.  But a storm prevented me from leaving right away.  So, my Knight-Commander gave me this room, since it wouldn’t be right to keep a man of my rank in barracks with the others.”

“And I take it the Knight-Captain died during the Blight?”

“That’s right.”

“And this is where you want to sleep for the night?”

He chuckles, “Well, we can.  I was actually thinking about going up one more floor.  The Knight-Commander’s room is up there and I’m pretty sure it’s a lot nicer than this room.”

“Will it be as dusty?”

“Probably not.  It’s kind of weird that this room is so dusty when the rest of the tower isn’t.  How about we just close this door?”

She grins at him.  “Probably a good idea.”  He closes the door as they leave the room and head up one more set of stairs.  He opens the door to the only slightly dusty room.  It has the same layout as the previous room.  Shea smacks the bed a few times, sending dust into the air.  “Well, it’s an improvement.  And there doesn’t appear to be any deadly spiders lurking about.”

“This place isn’t exactly the safest place for us to stay.  So I would suggest sleeping in our armor again.”

She groans.  “We need to air out.  We both smell like horse.”

“You just want to see me naked, Lady Inquisitor.”

She shrugs, “Guilty.”

He comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.  “The next time we stop, we can camp near a river or lake.”

“Camp?  With what gear?”

“Look around you, love.  We’re going to raid the tower before we leave.  I bet we can find rope and there are plenty of available blankets to use as tents.  There are lots of thing we can use here to make an impromptu campsite.”

“So I guess this worked out then.”

“In fact, we could see if the bathhouse is still working.”

“Bathhouse?”

“How else do you expect a tower full of mages and templars to get clean?”

She turns in his arms and kisses him.  “Then what are we waiting for?  Lead on!”

***

When they wake the next morning, they quickly go through the tower gathering supplies.  Then load them onto the small boat.  “Is there anything else you want to do while we’re here?”

He looks back at the tower.  “No.  I don’t think so.”

“Then let’s continue our little adventure.”

He rows the boat back across the lake and she sighs.  “Something wrong?”

“Not wrong.  Just I feel little bad about last night.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.  I mean I fell asleep while you were trying to…”

He laughs, “I’m not mad.  Or even offended.  I could tell you were fighting it.  I shouldn’t have tried to start anything.”

She groans, “It’s been ages.”

“I’m aware.  Trust me.”

“How long until we get to where ever we’re going?”

“About a week.  If we stop to rest.”

She shakes her head.  “They’re going to think we ran off forever at this rate.  Who knows what could be happening?”

He ties the boat to the dock and helps her out it.  They gather their pilfered things and head to where they stashed the horses.  “Do you want to head back?”

“What?  No!  You clearly have something planned and I want to see whatever it is.  You said last night that we were at the halfway point.  Might as well continue on.”

“Well… we could make out next stop Redcliffe.  You’d recognized, but we could at least get information.”

She smirks, “Better yet.  We could just go to one of our camps in the area.  Gives us a good place to rest and we can get news direct from the source.”

“We’d have to quick about it.  They’d see us coming and the raven would be on its way to Skyhold before we reached them.  But we could get news, sleep, maybe even a decent meal, and go as quickly as possible.  Lets them know we’re still invested and also not dead.”

“That sounds like a plan!  Let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for fluff! Let me know what you all think!
> 
> UPDATED July 24, 2018


	54. Don't You Wanna Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three cheers for an angst free chapter!!!

They ride up to a small cabin in rural Ferelden.  She is further south than she’s ever been.  He gets off his horse before it even stops moving.  Happiness is radiating from every cell in his body.  He missed this place more than he realized.  It is nearly dark and they are tired, but he can’t contain himself.  She smiles at him from atop her horse as he quickly ties his horse up and rushes into the cabin.  He pops his head out of the door, “Are you coming in or…?”

She shakes her head and dismounts.  She ties up her horse and enters the cabin.  He is bent down in front of a tiny fireplace.  The cabin is small, just one room, which holds a bed and little else. “So, this it?  This is where you wanted to come?”

He smiles brightly at her over his shoulder as the log catches.  “No, but we’re close.”

“How close?”

He stands and grabs her hand.  He pulls her from the cabin and leads her down a thin worn path.  The stars are slowly starting to appear in the sky above them.  She sees a decent sized lake ahead of them.  He leads them out on to a small dock.  He releases her hand and leans against a post.  He closes his eyes and breaths in the crisp clean air.  He small smiles crosses his face.  He sighs contentedly.

“I used to come here as a boy.  I grew up not far from here.  I always found this place peaceful.  My siblings were loud and I’d come here to clear my head.  They’d always find me, of course, but it was always nice while it lasted.”

“So this is one of your favorite places?”

“Like a bath or your room at Skyhold, yes.  It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to come back here.  But I wanted you to see it.”

“It’s lovely.”

He turns to face her, “The last time I was here was the day I left for templar training.  I wanted a moment to myself before I travelled.  But my siblings wouldn’t have it.  We built that cabin together and then before I left my brother gave me this.”  He pulls a silver coin with a picture of Andraste on it from his pocket.  “It was just something that happened to be in his pocket at the time.  But he told me it was for luck.  As I’m sure you are aware, templars aren’t supposed to hang on to such things.  This was the only thing I took from Ferelden that the templars didn’t give me.”

“I suppose I was doing the same thing with my necklace and my ring.  I had a few other things stashed away, but those are long gone now.”

He takes her hand.  “Humor me?”  She nods.  He places the coin in her hand.  “I… want you to hang onto this.  We don’t know what lies ahead, but this can’t hurt.”

She smirks at him, “I would hate to take your luck away from you.”

“You are all the luck I need.  And I know it’s foolish, but the idea of you having that with you, makes me feel better somehow.”

She steps closer to him and shoves the coin in her pocket.  “Then I’ll keep it safe.”

“Good.”  He pulls her in close and rest his forehead on hers.  “I want you to know.  Because I don’t think I say this enough.  I have never been happier than I am right now.”

She brushes her nose against his.  “I feel the same way.  Though for me, the location isn’t important.  Just being close to you is enough.”

“I agree.  Location isn’t important.  Though you have to appreciate the seclusion.  No doors knocking.”

“Or bells ringing.”

“Or Jim.”

She laughs.  “That man has poor timing.”

“He has to do it on purpose.  There’s no way that’s an accident.”

She runs her hands up his arms and then into his hair.  At the same time, his hands wrap around her and presses them into her back.  “So, what now?”

He smirks and kisses her nose.  “Follow my lead?”

“Alright.”  He walks off the dock and stands a bit away from the shore.  He removes his cloak and drops it in the grass.  “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly serious.”  He removes his belt and gloves, and starts unstrapping his armor.

“That water is probably freezing.”

“I’m Fereldan.  I’m great with the cold.”  With all the metal pieces on the ground, he works at getting his boots off.

“I’m a Marcher.  Me and cold don’t get along.”

He smirks as he kicks off his boots and removes his socks.  “I can keep you warm.”

“Not in that water you won’t.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”  He unlaces his shirt and pulls it over his head.  “I can think of a few things that would keep you warm in there.”

“Oh so now you want to have sex in the freezing water.”

“Love, it’s spring.  The water will be fine.”  He unlaces his pants and pulls them and his smalls down in one fluid movement.  He kicks them into the pile as her eyes roam his body.  He walks up to her and kisses her nose.  He runs past her and leaps off the end of the dock.  Water flies in the air and she throws her gloved hands up to block her face.  He surfaces and shakes the water from his hair.  “Come on!  Don’t make me swim by myself!”

“Is it cold?”

“It feels great.  Come on!”

He lays back and floats on his back.  Watching him swim around, so happy and free, makes her want to join.  But she just knows that water is going to be freezing.  He turns his back to her and dives under the water.  His perfect ass popping out of the water for just a moment.  She bites her lip.  “Ugh! Fine!”  She goes over to where he discarded his armor and starts removing her own.  He swims over to edge of the dock.  He folds his arms and rest them on the wet wood.  He watches her undress.  “So, when we’re wet and no doubt freezing, what are we going to do about this?”  She motions to the pile.  He looks up at the crystal clear sky.

“We could just leave them there.  Race back to the cabin.  Now get over here.”

She walks naked down the dock.  She sticks her toe in.  “Oh no.  That’s freezing.  You’re on your own.”

“Just jump in!  Live a little!”

She sighs and backs up from the edge.  “You are so lucky you’re hot.”  She takes a running jump and splashes down.  She instantly surfaces, gasping loudly.  “Oh you bastard!  I hate you!”

He swims over to her and pushes the wet hair from her face.  “No you don’t.”

She shivers, “Yes I do.”  He snakes his arms around her.  She wraps her arms around his shoulders.  He leans in to kiss her and she dunks him under the water.  She then tries to swim away, but he catches her.  She goes under and he pulls her back up.  She laughs and tries to push him away.  He smirks and takes a mouth full of water.  She laughs and screams as he spits it at her.  She splashes him and slips from his grasp.  They splash, chase, and push each other under the water.  Their laughter echoing into the night.  She tries to swim backwards from him, kicking her feet and splashing him.  He catches her ankle and pulls her to him.  He captures her face in his hands.  She has never seen him this happy.  He has never seen her this happy.  He kisses her.  She wraps her arms around his neck and moves her mouth with his.  They sink below the surface.  Unable to stay above the water as they kiss.

When they come up for air, they race to the docks.  He beats her and lifts himself on it.  He reaches down for her hands and he lifts her out of the water.  Before she’s even fully standing, he drops her hands bolts for the cabin, scooping up his armor on the way.  She counts to five and then bolts after him, scooping up her own armor.  She effortlessly passes him as she sprints towards the door.  She pushes it open tosses her armor to the side.  He enters right after her and drops his armor on the floor.  He pounces her.  Their faces collide and they crash to the floor.  The heat from the fire and their running has warmed them.  Sweat mingling with water.

Cullen lifts his head from hers to look into her eyes.  He wants to capture this moment, this whole evening in his mind.  Her ocean blue eyes shine up at him.  She is savoring this too.  No Inquisition.  No Corypheus.  No worries, problems, or responsibilities.  Just the two of them in this moment of bliss.  They slow way down.  Kissing each other softly.   Their hands roaming the other’s body.  He presses his palms into the floor and hovers above her.  Her hands press flat against his chest, feeling the contour of his muscles.  She leans up and kisses the center of his chest.  She lets her mouth roam his chest.  Her hands run down his back, savoring every line his muscles make.  As she kisses him, she realizes that there a part of him that she has never touched.  This must be remedied.  She brushes her lips against his nipple.

He moans and looks down at her as she continues to tease him.  His hard cock twitches.  He takes her face in his hands and pulls her mouth to his.  He tries to keep the moment tender, but his thirst for her is almost too much to handle.  He is driving her crazy.  She can feel his heat, the passion and fire in him, but she wants more.  She hungers for him in a savage way.  The way she knows he wants her.  But she wants this to last.  And if they let themselves ravage each other, it won’t last as long as she wants it to.

Their kiss deepens and the urgency intensifies.  He runs his hands down her sides and cups her breasts.  He brushes his thumbs across and around her tips.  She moans against his lips.  She reaches between them and wraps her fingers around his shaft.  She feels a groan deep in his chest more than she hears it.  She slowly strokes him, the water on his skin acting as lubrication.  Her hand slides effortless long this length.  He kisses along her jaw and down her neck.  He trails his hand up her the inner side of her leg.  His fingers grazing the delicate skin, feeling her warmth and wetness.  She pants beneath his soft kisses as he touches her.

She pulls him close to her and shifts her weight to roll him onto his back.  She smirks down at him.  His hair has started to dry.  She ruffles it to free his curls from their slicked back position.  He moves his hand from her breast to fix it and she makes him put it back.  “Don’t you dare touch your hair.”

He smirks against her lips.  “Yes, love.”

  She brushes her lips and nips at his skin as she travels down his body.  He stops her by rolling back over and does the same thing to her.  She relishes in his touch, her skin tingling, her pulse racing.  He presses his lips on her inner thigh and looks up to see her watching him.  He maintains eye contact while he runs his hot, wet tongue against the very center of her.  A few of his blonde curls fall onto his forehead.  He licks, sucks, and kisses her clit, holding her eye contact.  Her body shakes and her heads falls back as she climaxes.  She grabs a handful of his hair and pulls him toward her face.  His kisses her.

She arches her back and wraps her arms around his neck.  She breathes into his ear, “Cullen.”

“Yes, my love?”

“Please.”

He inhales at her breathy plea.  With his forehead resting against hers, their eyes locked together, he slowly slides himself deep in her.  She cries out and tosses her head back.  He presses his lips to her neck and he slowly grinds against her.  Her moves her hips in rhythm with his.  Waves crash through her.  He supports himself with one palm pressed to the floor and wraps his other arm firmly around her, pulling her so tight against him that there is no space between them.  Their love making slowly becomes more heated.  Speed and power build behind every thrust.  They are so wrapped together and so consumed by their passionate that they can’t tell where he ends and she begins.  They are one being, knit together.

They move together with heat and passion long into the night.  She can feel him tensing his muscles, holding back to keep going.  He doesn’t want to stop.  He wants to go on for eternity.  To hang on to this unbridled intimacy for as long as he can.  She doesn’t want it to end either, but she doesn’t know if she is even capable of lasting much longer.  The spasms are constant and she can’t breathe.  She clings to him as if her life depended on it.  That if she lets go of him, he would vanish for existence.  His hands shake as they hold her and his eyes a squeezed closed.  He is so close to the tipping point and is fighting with everything he has to keep it at bay.  She cups his face and pulls hers closer to his.  She watches him sweat and struggle.

“Open your eyes.”  He slowly opens his eyes and hers bore into his, “Come for me, love.”  His body convulses.  He curves around her.  She kisses him as he makes one final, powerful thrust.  They both cry out and he trembles in her arms.  He takes few ragged breaths before he collapses.  She runs her fingers through his hair with his forehead pressed against hers.  Aftershocks of pleasure roll through her.  He very lightly kisses her.  As her breathing normalizes, his is still coming in short bursts.  “Are you ok, sweetie?”

He nods.  “Just… give me... a minute.”

She wipes the sweat from his face.  He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a huff.  He settles down on top of her and rest his face on her chest.  She chuckles, “You aren’t about to sleep now, are you, dear?”

He looks up at her.  “Not yet.  Are you trying out different names?”

She nods, “Any of them working for you?  Because I have more.  Sweetie, darling, dear, honey, love.”  She smirks, “Pup.”

“Pup?”

“Because you’re Fereldan and you all are obsessed with dogs.”

He presses up on his elbows to look down at her.  “Hey!  Not just dogs.  _Mabari._ ”

She chuckles, “My mistake.”

“I forgive you.  Marchers don’t know any better.”  He smirks and lays back on her chest.  “And as far as the others one go.  I like Love, but that’s my name for you.”

“I know, but I really like it.  I was starting to think of other animals.  Bear, tiger, stallion.  Then I thought of stud, babe, vhenan.  So far I can’t land on one I think fits.”

He sighs contentedly, “Please tell me that’s not what you were thinking about while we…”

She laughs.  “How could I possibly think of anything else when we’re having sex?  Every thought I have is about how good you feel and constantly wanting more.”

He blushes, “I… well… I mean I… that’s what I think about too… while we’re…”

She brushes her fingers along his jaw, “I think it’s adorable that you are… what… in your 30’s, and you can can’t talk to women or about sex without getting all bashful.”

“Need I remind you, my love, that I have led a very sheltered existence?  And on top of that, you are my first serious relationship.  It seems pathetic to me.”

“Hey now!  You are anything but pathetic!  I believe I used the word adorable.”  He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling.  She crawls over to him and lays on top of him, she rests her hands and chin on his chest.  “Have I upset you, pumpkin?”

“Not that one, for sure.  And no.  This just feels like a dream.  Being here in a happy place from my past.  Blissfully cut off from the rest of the world.  Just us.”

She hums, “I had that thought earlier too, snuggle bug.”

He laughs, “Please not that one.”

“How am I supposed to know if one will fit you if I don’t say it, dearie?”

He continues laughing, “Please stop.”

“If you insist, sweetie.”

He shrugs, “Ok.  That one’s not too bad when you use it in a sentence.”

She moves further up him so her face is hovering over his, “So, let’s say we’re in Skyhold.  I’m… we’re… in the throne room.  Like on opposite ends.  And I’m talking to someone I think you should met.”

“I’m with you.”

“And I just yell, ‘Oh, Sweetie!’ how would you feel about that?”

He wrinkles his nose, “Do you plan on doing that once you land on one?”

“Possibly.  I haven’t really decided yet.  But I know if you yelled, ‘Oh, Love!’ at me to get my attention I might swoon before actually coming over to you.”

“You think I’m swoon worthy?”

“Absolutely.”  He smiles to himself, “Feeling better about yourself?”

“You bet.  If I can make a woman like you swoon, I’m pretty awesome.”

“A woman like me?”

He cups her face in his hands, “Beautiful, smart, funny, strong, I could keep going.”

“Oh please do.”

“Hmm… maybe I shouldn’t.  I’d hate to inflate your ego.”

She smirks, “Please.  Inflate away.”

“I’m not sure there are enough words, in any language, to describe what I think about when I look at you.  It’s going to get a bit mushy, so strap in.  You are more than just a gorgeous, breathtakingly, beautiful creature.  You are joy, light, purpose.  My happiness is directly linked to yours.  When you hurt, I hurt.  When you smile, I smile.  I love you more than I could possibly ever express.  You are a fighter, a warrior, a leader.  Some might even call you a savior.  Not because you’re chosen or holy or whatever people are saying nowadays, but because you are giving, deeply caring, and passionate about helping those who can’t, or in some cases won’t, help themselves.  I can think of no woman in all of Thedas who possess all of those qualities, but you.  And when you look at me, like you’re looking at me now, I get this gut feeling that despite the odds that are stacked against us, everything will work out the way it should.  I sometimes feel unworthy to be with you, because I’m flawed and damaged.  But you make me better just by being near me.”  He wipes a tear from her cheek.  “Maker, and now I’ve made you cry.”

She kisses him, breathing him and his words into her.  “They are good tears I promise.  That’s the first time you spoken that long about your feelings without tripping over yourself or breaking eye contact.”

“Like I said.  You make me better just by being around me.”

“I… look what you’ve done… I’m speechless.”

He laughs, “It was bound to happen someday.  The Inquisitor loses her sharp wit to a disarmingly charming ex-templar.”

Shea rests her head on his chest and sighs contentedly.  Inside, her mind is screaming.  _Fucking tell him!  What are you afraid of?  He just poured his heart out all over the floor and you’re not even going to say three tiny words in a language he can understand?  If you can say it in elven, you can say it the common tongue!  Just fucking say it!_   But she doesn’t.  Her eye lids grow heavy as she lays on his chest.

He sits up and chuckles.  “I think it’s time for bed.”

“I’m not… I don’t want to miss a moment of this.”

“We both almost just passed out in the floor.  Come on.”  They stand up together and he pulls the blanket back on the simple bed.  He climbs in first and lays on his back.  She climbs back on top of him and resumes her position.  He covers them up and wraps his arms around her.  She leans up to kisses him.  He cups her face to hold her steady and their lips meet.  The kiss is long, passionate, and deep.  He smirks as they part and she goes back to laying on his chest.

“Sweetheart?”

“Mmmm… I kind of like that one.”

“I want to you to leave your hair like that until we head back.”

He groans.  “Why?”

She looks up at him and reaches up to ruffle his curls.  “Because I like them.  They put distance between the Commander and you.  You look and feel more like Cullen, if that makes sense.”

He rolls his eyes, “Alright, fine.  But then you have to do something for me.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

He thinks for a moment.  What makes her look less like to Inquisitor and more like Shea?  She looks up at him.  While she watches him think, she wraps one of his curls around her finger.  “I need some time to think about it.  I’ll get back to you.”

“If you say so.”

“I think my problem is that you’ve always been… you.  Since the beginning.  So I can’t think of anything that makes me think Inquisitor unless you’re in your uniform.”

“Then I won’t wear it when we’re together.”

“That’ll do for now, until I can come up with something better.” 

She yawns and rests her head on his chest.  He runs his fingers through her hair.  “Good night, sweetheart.”

He hums, “Sleep well, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is how I think the lake scene should have played out lol! Hope no one got any cavities lol!
> 
> UPDATED July 24, 2018


	55. Catch My Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** time/pov shift
> 
> They're back!

When they ride through the gates of Skyhold, it has been three weeks since anyone has heard from them.  They have barely crossed into the courtyard when five men come running up to Cullen with arms full of reports.  Someone runs up to take his horse.  He shoots her a look and groans.  She winks at him and he follows them to his office.  She gets off her horse.  The first thing she sees is Josephine arguing with someone clearly from the Chantry.  Shea walks up and touches Josephine on the shoulder who lets out a huge sigh of relief.

“Is there something I can assist with, Revered Mother?”

“Yes.  Now that the war in Orlais is over, we must turn our attention to the election of the next Divine.  We cannot make that decision without the Left and Right Hands of Divine Justinia V.”

Josephine sighs, “I have already told you, Revered Mother that Lady Leliana and Seneschal Cassandra cannot be spared from their duties.”

“Surely with the support of the Empire, the Inquisition will not be harmed by the loss of just two souls?!”

Shea crosses her arms over her chest, “And why do you _need_ Leliana _and_ Cassandra?”

The Revered Mother scoffs as if that should be obvious, “They were her holiness’s most trusted advisors.  They represent her legacy, her hopes for peace in Thedas. They could rally the Grand Clerics to follow as no candidate from the clergy has been able to.”

Shea has to stop her jaw from dropping open.  “They are candidates?  To become the next Divine?  How is that possible?”

“Not yet.  But they could be.  We _need_ them to be.  Lady Leliana and _Seeker_ Casandra were Justinia’s most trusted friends and advisors.  Our late Divine is still held in high esteem.  To honor her, the Grand Clerics might support one of them as successor.”

Shea sighs. She hates being blindsided.  If she had been there she might have had some warning this might happen.  She needs them both.  They still have a lot of work to do, but she can’t deny that the Chantry needs a new Divine if Thedas is going to survive.  “How long would you need them?

“Several months, at least.  If one of them is crowned Divine, she would not be returning to the Inquisition.”

She shakes her head.  “These aren’t just any two people.  They are key members, founding members, of the Inquisition.  In any case, I would let them decide what they wish to do.  It shouldn’t be up to me.”

Josephine nods, “And they certainly will.  At a later date.  The Inquisitor has just returned and she has a lot of important business to attend to.  If you will excuse us, Revered Mother.”  The Revered Mother sneers at Josephine, but bows to them both and walks away.  “I hope you enjoyed your vacation.  There’s a lot to catch up on.  And little time to do it.  We should hold a meeting as soon as the Commander is free.  In the meantime, you should head to the war room now.  To get a head start on the stack of reports we’ve left for you.  We’ve done the best we can without the two of you, but somethings we weren’t comfortable with making decisions without you.  We’ve placed the most urgent and important reports on the top of the pile.”

“Thank you, Josie.  I’m sorry if our absence placed a burden on you.”

She smiles, “No apologies necessary.  You both work too hard.  You look happy and rested, which is a nice change.  I trust everything is well between you two now?”

“Never better.”

“Excellent!  I’ll see you in the war room later then.”  Shea takes the stairs two at a time.  She feels a little guilty for leaving them to run things without her.  The throne room is buzzing as she walks through it.  She finds it astounding that some people actually thought she wouldn’t return.  They had no doubts that the Commander would, but they questioned if she would.  It makes her a little angry.  They speak as if she isn’t walking right past them and wants to scold them for ever doubting her.

She walks into the war room and gasps.  The stack of reports left for her ias tall.  _Andraste’s ass.  What the hell has happened since Halamshiral?_   She dives right in.  Most of the reports are trivial enough.  Results from their efforts at the Winter Palace, inquiries on her betrothal status, as well as Cullen’s.  A few updates from their established camps and some from places she needs to go.  But there are three reports that require her immediate attention.  The first were sightings of Corypheus and his men searching for elven ruins in the Arbor Wilds.  The second are reports on Samson’s movements.  She makes a mental note to make a return trip to the Emerald Graves her next stop to see what he is up to there. 

The third is from Wycome.  Clan Lavellan is now safely inside Wycome’s walls, having protected the commoners, elves, and merchants from the rampaging nobles.  The Duke is dead and most of the nobles are too.  The others have fled to other Marcher cities claiming the Dalish attacked and poisoned the city.  She wonders if these nobles are spreading their lies in Ostwick.  If so, how would Brandon react?  The attached report has her answer.  Brandon gave these nobles safe haven and hired someone to help with their red lyrium withdrawals, but refused to attack Wycome.  A certain elf had sent word ahead that the nobles were going to be spouting lies and informed him that they had a mutual ally in the Inquisition.  He is ashamed that he can’t offer Moira and her new clan help, as he is having troubles of his own.  Troubles that he doesn’t go into detail about, because the men Cullen sent with him have helped immeasurably and he doesn’t want to bother her with it.

The report also attached to this one is the most recent, having only arrived the day before.  Written in Moira’s hand.

_Inquisitor,_

_Keeper Istimaethoriel has trusted me with this request.  We are helping to keep Wycome safe and the merchants have formed a collective to trade with us.  We have taken the city elves under our protection.  The city is leaderless, but is doing the best it can.  We are deeply worried that the nobles will convince other Marcher cities to attack.  If they do, we’re done for.  I have already been informed that Brandon has refused them, but that is only a small comfort._

_We don’t know what to do, ma falon.  We fear that leaving the city will save the clan but force others to be punished for our actions.  Yet without help, we are lost.  Please advise us on what to do.  We trust you.  I trust you._

_Dareth shiral,_

_Moira, First of Clan Lavellan_

Shea paces the war room, anxiously awaiting for her advisors to arrive.  She can’t read the rest of the reports.  They don’t feel as important to her as this.  She knows she couldn’t send an army to Wycome or go there herself like she wanted to.  She knows she can’t send Cullen like she wants to.  She doesn’t know what to do really.  Was there a diplomatic solution or was sending reinforcements her only option?

Cullen is the first to enter to war room as always.  He sees her pacing, running her fingers through her hair, and clutching a thick report.  He sets his own reports down and goes to her.  He doesn’t say a word and just takes the report from her.  She bites her nails as she watches him read.  He turns to the table and studies his markers.  “I’m sure Josephine will want to send her diplomats to track and talk these nobles down, but we’re already behind on this.  By now, those nobles could be marching on Wycome and would slaughter every elf in the city and then apologize for it afterwards.”  He points to one of his markers on the table.  She comes to stand next to him to look at it.  “These are the men I sent to help Clan Lavellan with their bandit problems.  They’ve been slowly making their way back, helping move Marchers away from rifts and such, so they are still in the Free Marches.”  He points to another marker on Ostwick, “These are the men I lent your brother.  If he thinks he can spare some of them, I can have both of these groups march on Wycome.  Clan Lavellan can let them in the gates and they can fortify and claim the whole city as property of the Inquisition.  With these number in addition to those the Dalish have, it would at least make the attacking nobles pause.”

“Then do it.  Use Sky.  She can use the rifts in the area to get the messages to Brandon and this other group faster than a normal raven.”

He smirks, “Don’t want to wait for the advice of the rest of your council, love?”

She kisses his cheek, “I don’t trust anyone’s advice more than yours, sweetheart.”

“Then, I’ll get on this right away.  Go ahead and start the meeting without me.  I’ll return shortly.”  He kisses her and leaves the war room, her report in his hand.  She sighs and presses her palms into the table.  She doesn’t know what Brandon will say, but she hopes he will agree.  Leliana and Josephine enter as she reaches forward to move Cullen’s markers to Wycome.

Leliana chuckles, “Does he know you’re planning troop movements now?”

“It was his idea.  He just left before moving them.  The situation with our Dalish allies in Wycome has become extremely volatile.  He’s handling that now.”

Josephine comes to stand next to her to see where she moved the markers from, “Shouldn’t we at least try to be diplomatic?”

She smirks, “He thought you might say that.  But no, these nobles are going around asking other Marcher cities to attack.  If they’ve already reached Ostwick, then we can bet they’ve reached other cities as well.  If we try to find them all, the elves in Wycome will die.”

“Then it seems you’ve made the right call.”

“I’m glad you think so, Josie.  Now let’s talk Corypheus.”

“I believe I can help with that.”  Morrigan enters the war room.  “Though it would have been better to act sooner rather than later, but no matter.”

“Any help you can offer would be appreciated.”

“What he seeks in those forgotten woods it as ancient as it is dangerous.”

She waits for her to continue.  Morrigan cocks a half smiles.  “What that is?”

“Follow me.  It’s best that I show you.”

Shea looks over her shoulder as she turns to follow Morrigan.  “I guess I’ll be back.”  She follows Morrigan out of the throne room.  She meets Cullen in the hallway. “Apparently, Lady Morrigan needs to show me something.  Go ahead and work on what you can without me.  I’ll be back when I’m able.”  He nods and tucks the report in his hand under his arm.  He briefly touches her hand and goes into the war room.  She quickly catches up to Morrigan

***

Cullen closes the door behind him as he enters.  “What was that all about?”

“It seems that Lady Morrigan knows what Corypheus is looking for in the Arbor Wilds.”

Leliana scoffs, “Why does that not surprise me?  She always seems to know more than she lets on.  It has always been that way.  As long as her goals line up with ours, we should have no problems.  I wonder though if we should let the Hero of Ferelden know she’s here?”

Cullen scratches the short beard growing on his chin.  He really needs to shave.  “You know her better than the rest of us.  Do you think that’s something she should know?”

“I’m not sure.  I’m not entirely sure how to even find her.  I hear she’s disappeared.”

Josephine places her hand on her chest, “You don’t think something has happened to her?  Like with the wardens?”

“Cassandra and I couldn’t find her when we were looking to ask her to join the Inquisition.”       

Cullen has to hide his smirk behind a report.  It amuses him greatly that he knows things, big things, which Leliana doesn’t.  He clears his throat to gather himself.  “The King of Ferelden would know.”

Leliana nods, “I can write to him.  We are friends after all.”

“Besides whatever Morrigan is up to, are there any other concerns we need to look into.  I’m already on Samson’s trail.  It’s personal, so I’m handling that.  With the Inquisitor’s help, of course.”

Leliana and Josephine exchange smiles, “We assumed as much, Commander.”

“Did you and Lady Trevelyan run off to have a secret wedding ceremony?”

He blushes and rubs his neck.  “What?  No.  Why would you say that?”

Josephine fans herself, “Where did you go?  Was it romantic?”

“Don’t we have better things to talk about?”

Leliana grins at him, “Did you finally make love to her?”

He chokes on air, “That’s… Maker’s breath… people are being killed by red templars and this is what you want to talk about?”

Shea comes back into the war room.  Cullen is beet red and rubbing his neck.  Her eyes shift to Leliana and Josephine who are sniggering.  “Commander, are they harassing you again?”

Josephine picks up her board, “There have been dozens of inquiries on the Commander’s availability and we were just trying to see how we should respond.”

“Indeed, we’ve had quite a few regarding your hand as well Lady Inquisitor.”

She cocks her eyebrow, “Me?  Why me?”

“You are first in line to House Trevelyan until your brother fathers heirs.  An alliance with both your family and the Inquisition would be a powerful thing.”

Shea glances over at Cullen.  His embarrassment mixing with anger.  She turns her attention back to Josephine, “If you choose to respond, kindly remind them that my brother is the man to address those concerns to and not you.  Though I hear he already has an arrangement for me.”  Cullen’s eyes snap to her and she winks at him.  He relaxes slightly.  She’s trying to turn this little game back on them.  “As far as the Commander is concerned, remind these people that an alliance by marriage doesn’t necessarily give them access to the Inquisition as the Commander is a very professional man and keeps his business and personal life separate.”

Josephine quickly scribbles a few things on her pad, “Oh!  I wasn’t aware Bann Trevelyan had convinced you to go along with him arranging something for you.”

“It’s all very hush-hush.  And quite controversial, so I’d appreciate it if you kept that to yourself.  Maybe just politely decline the offers stating that I’m already promised to another.”

She scribbles some more, “Can I ask?  What you mean by controversial?”

Cullen clears his throat, “I believe your brother said he was from Antiva.”

Shea shakes her head, “No.  He said near Antiva.”

The moment they knew they have them fooled arrives, Leliana looks down at the map, “Rivain is close to Antiva.”

Shea shakes her head, “No, I’d remember that.  The city had a weird name.”

Josephine gasps, “You don’t think he means to marry you off to a magister?”

“Gosh.  I hope not.  They aren’t exactly accepting of non-mage unions, according to Dorian.”

Cullen casually looks down at the map.  “Inquisitor.  What city did you say Dorian was from?”

“Oh!  Thank you, Commander.  Now, I remember.  He was talking to someone from Qarinus, which is where Dorian is from.”

“Maybe Dorian will know how he is.”

Leliana chuckles, “Maybe it is Dorian.”

Shea laughs, “Goodness, could you imagine?  He would be livid if his parents did that to him.  Especially to a _woman_ who isn’t a _mage._ ”

Josephine is writing furiously on her pad.  Cullen picks up a report to cover his face.  “We must talk to Dorian about all this.”

Shea smirks, “Allow me to speak with both him and my brother.  I would hate to have given you the wrong information.  Dorian deserves to know the truth.”

Leliana nods.  “Agreed.  Feel free to use one of my ravens if you would like to get the message to your brother quickly.”

Josephine looks down at the map on the table.  She squints her eyes and appears to be calculating something in her head.  “You two went to Ostwick, didn’t you?”

Shea thinks for a moment.  _Did that scout in the Hinterlands not report that they stopped at the camp?  Maybe he didn’t think he needed to since he wasn’t receiving news from Skyhold in his remote area.  Well, I’m already lying, why not one more?_   “Yes. It had been so long since I’d been back and with things being as they are in the Free Marches, I thought I’d take the opportunity.”

“I refused to let her go alone.”

The women nod.  He is having such a hard time keeping this going.  They are buying every single word.  Shea places her hand on the large stack of reports.  “So it appears we have a lot to do, that doesn’t involve my personal life.  We should probably get on that.”

***

When the meeting is finally over, Shea goes straight to Dorian in his reading alcove.  “Hey!”

“Thank goodness you aren’t dead!”  He snaps his book closed and pulls her into a hug.  “You look radiant, my dear.  And I never got the chance to tell you after your little escape, but you were prefect during that dance with Cullen!  I could have sworn by watching you that you already knew it.”

She beams at him, “He had an excellent teacher.”

“So he told you, did he?  I honestly didn’t think he would.”

“Every detail.  After a lot of coaxing on my part.”

“If you ever find yourself in Tevinter, I must show you how that dance is supposed to be done.  Maybe you’d even be my dance partner.”

She laughs, “Oh no you don’t.  Cullen told me what happens to the woman in this dance if done properly.  I’d like to keep my clothes on and unburnt thank you.”  They laugh together.  “Oh!  That reminds me why I came over here.  You know how Josie and Leliana like to mess with Cullen?”

“And you on occasion.”

“Well, we’re pulling the biggest prank ever right now.  But I need to get you and my brother in on it.  You game?”

“A chance to fool the master of spies?  Oh I’m in!”

“Great!  After I get word to my brother, I’ll let you know when I need you.”

“What is this big prank?”  Shea looks around and then whispers the whole war room exchange in Dorian’s ear.  His laughter echoes around the rotunda.  “I know just what to do.  Just let me know when.”

“Somewhere public, of course.”

“Naturally.  You know how I love an audience.  Are you two back to hiding your relationship then?”

“We talked about it.  We think that it would be best to keep people out of our business for a while.  It’s like our own private world.  Sneaking around, finding those rare private moments to be with each other.  It’s actually quite thrilling.”

“Good for you.”

“If there’s anything we learned while in Halamshiral, it’s that people are far too invested in our personal lives.  Cullen seems to think all that pressure everyone put him under regarding our relationship only pushed him further from me.  He’s stubborn like that.”

Dorian nods, “I can see that.  He’s always been a very private man.  As long as you are both happy, that’s all that matters.”

“Indeed.  Listen I’ve got a ton of things to catch up on.”

“Go on.  I’ve got to think about what I’m going to say during our little scene.”

She smiles and heads for her room.  Sky is perched on her desk.  She rushes over to the bird and scratches her head.  She picks up the letter from the desk and the bird flies off.  Her family seal is on it.

 

_Cullen or Shea,_

_Not sure which of you will get this first._

_Things have calmed down enough that I can part with over half of the men you lent me.  I’ve already sent them to Wycome under Cullen’s orders.  They will return to Ostwick once this business with the Dalish is completed.  Your men are well trained and have already prevented two attempts on my life.  I wish I knew who was trying to kill me.  And I believe our father was murdered.  Mother isn’t handling it well.  She wants to be with her family, so I’m going to send her back to Ghislain.  Once our grandparents send their personal guard to pick her up, she will most likely be moving and staying there._

_I’m not sure what else I can do to help.  And I hate to ask for more favors when I don’t know if I can offer anything in return.  But unless Shea wants to rule Ostwick while she’s busy being Inquisitor, I could really use some help trying to figure out this whole assassin thing._

_Brandon_

She groans.  _Assassins?  Seriously?_ She takes the letter with her back down the stairs.  She waves to Solas and Dorian as she passes them and climbs the stairs to Leliana’s office.  “Could you look at this for me?”

Leliana takes the letter from her.  “Assassins?  Do you think there’s a contract on him?”

“I don’t know.  But they’ve already killed my father.  Brandon is obviously on their list.  I could be too for all we know.  It feels like someone is trying to wipe out every Trevelyan with a claim.”

“I’ll put people on this right away.”

“Thank you.”

Shea goes all the way back to her room.  More reports litter her desk.  She groans and starts sifting through them.  Her head is swimming with all the new information she has leaned in the short time they’ve been back.  She rubs her temples trying to make it all sink in.  When one door closes, fifteen more seem to open.  They have the numbers to take on Corypheus directly, but first they need to find him and figure out what Samson is up to.  They are so close now to the biggest problem being done that she could practically taste it.  Yet this means her is closer to death than she’s been in a long time.  Before she can attempt to face Corypheus, or at least stop his latest plan of gaining control of a magic elven mirror called an Eluvian, she needs to resolve any unfinished business.  Making sure every rift she can close is locked tight and fast.  There are only a few more places to go, but they are far and probably more challenging than the rest.  She knows that she should pick a country and finish it up before she comes back to Skyhold.  Ferelden is pretty stable at the moment.  There are some place in Southern Ferelden she needs to go.  Maybe that should be her first step.  Finish everything she can in Ferelden, come back to Skyhold and do some work, then go to the western most part of Orlais and resolve everything out that way.  No, first she needs to figure out what Samson is doing.  Then she can do all that other stuff. 

She groans as her head throbs.  Pressure building behind her eyes.  Playing catch up is overwhelming her brain.  Too many things are swimming around at once.  She focuses on her breathing.  Slowly in and out.  Her elbows resting her desk as she massages her temples.  She squeezes her eyes closed and tries to clear her mind of all the things screaming for her attention.

She decides to change.  She feels hot in her armor and that can’t be helping with the headache.  She slowly stands and rests her hands on the desk as her head spins.  _Maybe a nap is in order?_   She shuffles to the wardrobe looking for something the change into.  She smiles when she sees a bundle of clothes tied with a ribbon and a note.

 

_Love,_

_I stole these from you in Halamshiral.  I thought you’d want them back._

_Well… I gave you a new shirt and threw the one we used while healing your back away._

_Cullen_

She unties the ribbon freeing his shirt and the shorts she made from his pants.  She sets them on the bed and turns to her armor form.  She takes off her armor on puts it away and as well as her undergarments, which she throws in the basket for your soiled clothes.  She pulls the band from her hair to free the ponytail.  Feeling her hair makes her remember she hasn’t had a real bath in weeks.  The closest thing she had was swimming in a lake, since the bathhouse at Kinloch Hold was disgusting and she used it for only a short rinse.  She rubs her temples again and shuffles towards her tub. 

She brushes her fingers along the side to illuminate the runes.  She touches the one that fills it.  Then she touches the one that heats it.  Once the runes fade, she touches that one again.  The runes fade leaving the water steaming.  She climbs in and thoroughly cleans herself.  Once she’s done, she leans against the tub wall and lets the hot water relax her tired muscles.  She’s sorer from all that riding than she realized.  She smirks as she catches the double meaning in her thought.

She muscles finally relax, though she can tell she has a few knots.  Maybe Cullen could give her a massage later.  She climbs out of the bath, grabs a towel, and dries herself off.  When she leaves the bathroom, Sky is perched on her desk with a letter in her beak.  Shea throws on her returned clothes and takes the letter from her.  The bird ruffles her feathers and waits on her desk.  Shea unfolds the letter and reads:

 

_Shea,_

_I hear whispers in the Fade that Morrigan is at Skyhold.  I hate to make you my messenger on this, but I would like to meet with her.  It’s… a personal matter.  I would have contacted her directly, but she keeps herself hidden when she’s in the fade.  Your help with this is appreciated._

_Danielle_

She groans.  She figured it had to be urgent if Danielle was asleep in the middle of the day.  She doesn’t really want to have to put clothes on again.  She is so comfortable.  She hangs her head and rubs her temples.  She shuffles to her wardrobe and puts her uniform on over her comfy clothes.  She doesn’t bother with socks and only laces her boots tight enough not to fall off her feet.  She scratches Sky’s head and leaves her room.

She doesn’t see Morrigan when she enters the garden.  She is about to groan that she came all this way for nothing when she hears a child speak to her.  “You’re the Inquisitor.”

She turns to the voice.  He heart nearly stops.  The child is around ten years old.  He has Morrigan’s dark hair and pale skin, but his features, his eyes, his cheekbones, his whole face really, looked exactly like Alistair’s.  Anyone who had ever met the King of Ferelden would recognize this child right away.  Shea instantly feels the need to protect this boy.  She doesn’t know why, she doesn’t even know his name, but she wants to keep him secret and safe. 

“I thought you’d be scarier.  Mother said you were scary.”

Shea smiles at him and kneels down to his level.  “Oh, I’m not so bad.  I would never be scary to my friends.”

“Is mother your friend?”

“We’ve only just met, but so maybe we’re not friends yet.  But she is definitely an ally.”

“Mother says people are afraid of things they don’t understand.”

“In my experience, I’d have to agree.  However, one can’t be afraid to learn about the things they don’t understand.”

He is clearly an intelligent child.  He scratches the back of his head in thought.  “But if you are afraid of the things you want to learn about, wouldn’t your fear stop you?”

She smiles at him, “That’s what courage and bravery are all about.  Pushing past your fears, facing them head on.  It’s a little hard to explain, but if you have a determination to learn about the things around you, no amount of fear can stop you.”

“I think mother was wrong about you.  You’re not scary at all.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Morrigan clears her throat.  “Kieran, are you bothering the Inquisitor?”  Shea stands up slowly, her head protesting the movement.

“Of course not!  Did you see what’s on her hand mother?”

“I did.”

Shea rolls up her sleeve, “Would you like to look at it?  I don’t mind.”  Morrigan looks at her wearily.  “If your mother, doesn’t mind.”

He looks excitedly up at her.  Morrigan sighs and nods.  Shea holds out her marked hand to him.  He peers down at the mark.  It’s very calm, only the faintest green light shining from it.  “Does it always look like that?”

“Only when I’m not using it or when it’s not near rifts or demons.  And sometimes it flares up for no reason in particular, but it’s been a long time since it’s done that.”

“Is it safe?”

“Yes.  You can touch it, if you want to.”  Kieran looks back at his mother, she nods her encouragement and holds out her hand.  He pulls off his gloves and hands them to her.  He turns back to Shea and she holds out her hand to him again.  He hesitates.  “It’s alright, Kieran.  It won’t hurt you.”

He closes his hand into a fist and slowly extends his index finger.  He carefully places the tip on his finger next to the mark.  When nothing happens, he drags his finger across her palm.  “It feels like old paper.  I can feel it’s magic.  But you don’t have magic.”

“That’s right.  I’m not a mage.  But it was placed there by very old magic.”

He looks back at his mother.  She offers him his gloves.  “Time to get back to your studies, little man.”  He groans, but does has he’s told.

Shea calls after him, “It was nice to meet you, Kieran.”  He turns back.  He smiles brightly, looking just like his father, and runs off.  “Has he met him?”

Morrigan looks at her as Shea rolls down her sleeve.  “What?”

“Kieran.  Has he met… his father?”

“No.  He hasn’t.  The arrangement was very specific.  You seem to know more than you’re letting on.”

“Yes.  I do, but we’re not exactly alone.”  She nods to a villager who is picking flowers.  “But what I can say is that he looks just like him.”

“You’ve met him then?”

“In the Fade and at Redcliffe, yes.  I’ve also met his wife.”

“The primary reason for my not reaching out sooner.  Kieran has expressed curiousity about his father, but my letter went unanswered.  He knows his father was a Grey Warden and a good man.  Though if you repeat that, I may have to kill you.”

Shea smiles, “I won’t.  I am on better terms with her than him in any case.  Speaking of.”  She pulls the note from her pocket.  “She reached out to me today.”  Morrigan takes the letter and quickly reads it.

“This paper is enchanted.”

“It’s a long and extremely secretive story, that I can tell you in private some time.  Long story short though.  I communicate with her through the Fade.”

“As you said, you are no mage.  How do you manage to do this?”

“Well… it’s complicated.  But I have this raven, who has been bound to a spirit…”

“You say spirit as if you know there is a difference.”

“There is.  I’ve been studying the Fade a lot since getting this mark.  I don’t claim to be an expert, but I know there’s a difference between demons and spirits.  Though the line can be thin at times.”

Morrigan crosses her arms, “You constantly surprise me, Inquisitor.  It is not often that a person can do that, especially one who isn’t a mage.”

Shea smiles, “I get that a lot.  Especially from mages.”

“So who enchanted the paper and bound the bird?”

“She enchanted the paper.  And I think Sky bound herself.  Cole said spirits watch me from the Fade and want to help.  Sky likes me so they like her.  Then… she said that it was a Spirit of Purpose.”

Morrigan looks around briefly looking for prying ears, “So, the Hero and Mage Queen of Ferelden wants to meet with me.  Did she say why?”

“You read the letter.  She didn’t say, though I’m sure she is waiting for me to respond.”

“In the middle of the day?  It must be important.  How much notice does she need?”

“You’re asking me?  I don’t know.  She’s a Dreamer and seems to be very good at traveling the Fade.  She’ll get my response almost immediately.  My advice is to look for a pink owl.  He seems to be her spirit friend.  The first time I went to the Fade I signaled with my mark.  Every time after that the owl went to get her.”

“Hold on.  You were in the Fade?”

“Physically?  Twice.  As a Dreamer?  I’ve lost count at this point.”

Morrigan shakes her head.  “You are an impossible woman.  You’ve done impossible things.  Follow me and I’ll write her a response.”  Shea follows Morrigan into the room holding the Eluvian.  She has set up a small writing table for herself.  “Does this paper need special ink?”

“Nope.  Regular ink works just fine.”  Morrigan scribbles her response, folds the letter, and hands it back to Shea.

“I would appreciate you not reading that.”

“Didn’t plan to.”

“I should probably go get ready for this.  I told her I’d meet her in an hour.  Would… would you watch Kieran?  I shouldn’t be gone long.”  Shea nods and groans in her head.

“Certainly.  We’ll be in the rotunda when you get done.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor.  I’ll send him to meet you there, before I go to the Fade.”  Shea nods and turns to go back up her stairs.

Her head pounds with each step and she thinks to herself that she is far too nice a person.  She should have just gone to sleep like she wanted to.  But here she is running a secret correspondence to the Hero of Ferelden, again.  She opens her door and Sky is just sitting on her desk, eating a cricket.  “Went and got a snack did you?”  She scratches the raven’s head and sets the letter in front of her, “When you finish your lunch, take that back to Danielle please.”  The raven swallows its food and picks up the letter.  It hops to the edge of her desk before flying out the open balcony door.

Shea runs her fingers through her hair.  She sighs and then goes back down the stairs for what feels like the hundredth time today.  She goes right to the rotunda, waves at Solas, and goes to join Dorian in his alcove.  She drops into the high back chair across from him and rubs her temples.  “Long day?”

“It’s not over yet.”

“Headache?”

She smirks, “How’d you know?”

He cracks his knuckles and points to the floor in front of him.  “Come sit.”  She sits on the ground between his knees and folds her legs underneath her.  He summons magic into his fingers and presses his hand at the base of neck.  “Relax or this won’t work.”

“I am relaxed.”

“Well, then your very tense.  Has that masculine boyfriend of yours not given you a massage?”

“Not recently.”

“Tsk tsk tsk.  He really should.  Now shush.”  He presses his thumbs into the base of neck on either side of her spine wrapping his fingers gently around her neck.  He sends his magic into her tight muscles and through her nerves.  It feels cold, but causes her to melt.  He massages her neck, head, and scalp.  She completely loses track of time or even the concept of what time is.  She hears him chuckle.  “It appears we have an audience.”

She opens one eye and sees Kieran watching them.  She reaches over and pats the high back chair she was sitting in.  “Come on over and have a seat.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Dorian of House Pavus.  And you are?”

“I am Kieran.”

“Nice to meet you.  Don’t mind us.  The Inquisitor has a bit of a headache.”  Dorian’s hands continue their work.

“You’re a mage?”

“Indeed I am.  Judging by the book in your hands, I would have to assume you are too.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Oh, and he’s polite.”

Kieran watches Dorian work.  “What spell is that?”

 “It’s fairly basic.  A simple healing spell.  Typically used for minor scrapes, but combine it with massage.”  Shea moans softly as he presses his thumbs into the dip where her neck meets her head.  “And it can help loosen stiff muscles and relieve the headache caused by it.”

“Could I try?”

Shea looks over at the child.  Dorian drops his magic and hold out his hand.  “Try it on me first.  I got a nasty paper cut earlier and I’d hate for you to fry the Inquisitor’s brain.”

Shea is nervous about this, “Kieran, how does your mother feel about you using magic in public?”

“This isn’t very public.  She doesn’t mind it if other mages are around to watch me.”

“I would hate for her to be mad at us.”

“She won’t be.”

“Go ahead then.”

Kieran looks at Dorian, “Should I take my gloves off?”

“That’s probably a good idea.  I find when you are first learning a new spell that the fewer interferences the better.”  Shea watches Dorian give instructions to Kieran.  She finds herself thinking about what Dorian would be like as a father.  Judging by his patience as Kieran fails a few times to replicate the spell, she thinks he would be an excellent father.  Well, after the whole messy stage passes of course.  His children would also be very fashionable and well read.  He’d have it no other way.

Kieran beams up at Dorian as he closes his cut.  “I did it!”

“Excellent work!  You’ll need a little more practice with that before working with someone’s head, but it’s a great start.”  Kieran picks up his book from the floor and sits back in his chair.  He puts his gloves back on.

Dorian starts working on Shea’s neck again while Kieran watches attentively.  Solas comes up the stairs after hearing Dorian’s little magic lesson.  “And who might this be?”

“I am Kieran.”

“And I am Solas.”

“It’s very cold here.  Aren’t your feet cold?”

Solas smirks, “I’m used to it.”

Dorian looks up at Solas while he massages Shea.  “Young Kieran here is on his way to becoming a very talented mage.  He’s a quick study.”  He looks over at Kieran.  “Solas is a mage as well.  If you ever want to know about the Fade, he is the one to ask.”

Kieran sits forward in his chair.  “Do you have any good stories?”

Solas pulls a chair over from a nearby table and sits with them.  “I have a lot of stories.  I enjoy walking the Fade.”

“Would you tell us one?”

Shea rolls her eyes.  She’s willing to put coin down that she has heard whatever story he’s going to tell.  She’s right, of course.  So, she focuses on the massage as he tells it.  Her mind wanders to what Solas would be like as a father.  He would probably be strict but gentle.  He would relish in teaching his child everything he knew of the Fade.  And if that child were a Dreamer like him, she imagines them walking the Fade together. 

Kieran, Dorian, and Solas talk about magic and tell stories about some of their lighter experiences.  Morrigan clears her throat and they all turn to look at her.  “Hello, mother.”

“Have you made some friends, Kieran?”

“I think so.  They are mages.  Dorian taught me a healing spell.”

“Did he now?”

Dorian shrugs, “He said you wouldn’t mind.  He’s very gifted.”

“That he is.  Is something wrong with the Inquisitor?”

Shea looks at her, “Just a headache.”

“I healed Dorian’s paper cut!”

“He wanted to try what I’m doing to the Inquisitor, but I thought it best he get more practice.”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want him to cook her brain.”

“That was my exact reasoning.”

Morrigan holds out her hand to Kieran, “Come along now.  It’s time for dinner.”  He takes her hand and tucks the book under his arm.

“Thank you for the lessons.”

Dorian and Solas nod to him as Morrigan leads him away.  Solas stands and puts his chair back.  “I should get back to my own studies.”  He goes down to his desk.

Dorian stops his magic and pats her on the shoulder.  She stands and sits in the chair Kieran vacated.  “Thank you.  My head feels much better.”

“You’re welcome.”  Dorian opens his book and starts reading.

She doesn’t move to leave right away.  She has a strong desire to discuss her thoughts with the mage.  To see what he thinks Solas would be like as a father?  Or if he ever imagines himself as one?  Her thoughts drift to Cullen.  She finds herself thinking about what their child might look like.  Would they have his hair?  His eyes?  What kind of father would he be?  Before she can dig too deeply into that thought it flips on her.  What would she be like as a mother?  A shiver runs up her spine.  She’s never seriously considered the possibility.

She doesn’t know how she feels about kids.  The few interactions she’s had with children have been good ones, but they were few in number.  She had been brought up to never hope for children.  That wasn’t in the cards for her before now.  Now that she is in the line of succession in Ostwick, she knows that it is her responsibility to breed more Trevelyans.  But that Idea disgusts her.  Though she might be heading towards a reconciliation with her brother, she still wants nothing to do with that life.  She still never wants to go back to her former home.  She has very few untainted happy memories and everything she really wants is here.

But where did children fit in her new life?  Templars weren’t forbidden from marrying and having families, but it was rare.  She always said she was fine with being dedicated to the Chantry and that it never bothered her that she might never have children.  All of that was true when she said it.  Now though, she’s happy she’s not trapped in that life.  Seeing what being a templar did to Cullen and what her family had done for centuries, makes her almost grateful that she received the mark.

Her thoughts return to Cullen.  She doesn’t know how he feels about children.  She should probably ask him.  She should also figure out how she feels about it since he will likely ask her the same question. She shakes her head.  If she can’t even express to him that she loves him, then how could she possibly have children with him?  She now knows why she freaks out when she’s late.  She also releases it’s not even him.  She has thought for so long that she didn’t want kids, now she knows for sure.  Her freak outs are the key.  She doesn’t want children.  How would he feel about that?

She needs to dissect this.  Why doesn’t she want them?  Is she just not ready?  Will she ever be ready?  Is it the idea of bringing a children into this fucked up world?  Immediately, she knows that this is the key question.  If she could fix the world, or at least make things stable, would she feel comfortable bringing a child in the world?  His child? 

Someone clears their throat breaking through her thoughts.  She looks up.  “Jim.  What can I do for you?”

“The Commander is asking for you.”

She glances over at the window in Dorian’s alcove.  The sun is still shinning, so this must be work related.  “Is he in his office?”

“Yes, Inquisitor.”

She stands.  “Then I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”  Jim turns and walks off.  She looks over at Dorian.  “Thanks again.”

“Are you going to tell me what you were thinking out just now?  Or will I have to harass you on the road about it?”

She smirks, “You’ll harass me regardless.”

“True.  Well, off you go.  You’re lover awaits.” She blushes and heads down the stairs, past Solas, and across the bridge to his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Plan on posting another one in 30 minutes to an hour!
> 
> UPDATED July 25, 2018


	56. Down With The Sickness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Withdrawal is a bitch 
> 
> *** time/pov shift

When they ride through the gates of Skyhold, it has been three weeks since anyone has heard from them.  They have barely crossed into the courtyard when five men come running up to Cullen with arms full of reports.  Someone runs up to take his horse.  He shoots her a look and groans.  She winks at him and he follows them to his office.  She gets off her horse.  The first thing she sees is Josephine arguing with someone clearly from the Chantry.  Shea walks up and touches Josephine on the shoulder who lets out a huge sigh of relief.

“Is there something I can assist with, Revered Mother?”

“Yes.  Now that the war in Orlais is over, we must turn our attention to the election of the next Divine.  We cannot make that decision without the Left and Right Hands of Divine Justinia V.”

Josephine sighs, “I have already told you, Revered Mother that Lady Leliana and Seneschal Cassandra cannot be spared from their duties.”

“Surely with the support of the Empire, the Inquisition will not be harmed by the loss of just two souls?!”

Shea crosses her arms over her chest, “And why do you _need_ Leliana _and_ Cassandra?”

The Revered Mother scoffs as if that should be obvious, “They were her holiness’s most trusted advisors.  They represent her legacy, her hopes for peace in Thedas. They could rally the Grand Clerics to follow as no candidate from the clergy has been able to.”

Shea has to stop her jaw from dropping open.  “They are candidates?  To become the next Divine?  How is that possible?”

“Not yet.  But they could be.  We _need_ them to be.  Lady Leliana and _Seeker_ Casandra were Justinia’s most trusted friends and advisors.  Our late Divine is still held in high esteem.  To honor her, the Grand Clerics might support one of them as successor.”

Shea sighs. She hates being blindsided.  If she had been there she might have had some warning this might happen.  She needs them both.  They still have a lot of work to do, but she can’t deny that the Chantry needs a new Divine if Thedas is going to survive.  “How long would you need them?

“Several months, at least.  If one of them is crowned Divine, she would not be returning to the Inquisition.”

She shakes her head.  “These aren’t just any two people.  They are key members, founding members, of the Inquisition.  In any case, I would let them decide what they wish to do.  It shouldn’t be up to me.”

Josephine nods, “And they certainly will.  At a later date.  The Inquisitor has just returned and she has a lot of important business to attend to.  If you will excuse us, Revered Mother.”  The Revered Mother sneers at Josephine, but bows to them both and walks away.  “I hope you enjoyed your vacation.  There’s a lot to catch up on.  And little time to do it.  We should hold a meeting as soon as the Commander is free.  In the meantime, you should head to the war room now.  To get a head start on the stack of reports we’ve left for you.  We’ve done the best we can without the two of you, but somethings we weren’t comfortable with making decisions without you.  We’ve placed the most urgent and important reports on the top of the pile.”

“Thank you, Josie.  I’m sorry if our absence placed a burden on you.”

She smiles, “No apologies necessary.  You both work too hard.  You look happy and rested, which is a nice change.  I trust everything is well between you two now?”

“Never better.”

“Excellent!  I’ll see you in the war room later then.”  Shea takes the stairs two at a time.  She feels a little guilty for leaving them to run things without her.  The throne room is buzzing as she walks through it.  She finds it astounding that some people actually thought she wouldn’t return.  They had no doubts that the Commander would, but they questioned if she would.  It makes her a little angry.  They speak as if she isn’t walking right past them and wants to scold them for ever doubting her.

She walks into the war room and gasps.  The stack of reports left for her ias tall.  _Andraste’s ass.  What the hell has happened since Halamshiral?_   She dives right in.  Most of the reports are trivial enough.  Results from their efforts at the Winter Palace, inquiries on her betrothal status, as well as Cullen’s.  A few updates from their established camps and some from places she needs to go.  But there are three reports that require her immediate attention.  The first were sightings of Corypheus and his men searching for elven ruins in the Arbor Wilds.  The second are reports on Samson’s movements.  She makes a mental note to make a return trip to the Emerald Graves her next stop to see what he is up to there. 

The third is from Wycome.  Clan Lavellan is now safely inside Wycome’s walls, having protected the commoners, elves, and merchants from the rampaging nobles.  The Duke is dead and most of the nobles are too.  The others have fled to other Marcher cities claiming the Dalish attacked and poisoned the city.  She wonders if these nobles are spreading their lies in Ostwick.  If so, how would Brandon react?  The attached report has her answer.  Brandon gave these nobles safe haven and hired someone to help with their red lyrium withdrawals, but refused to attack Wycome.  A certain elf had sent word ahead that the nobles were going to be spouting lies and informed him that they had a mutual ally in the Inquisition.  He is ashamed that he can’t offer Moira and her new clan help, as he is having troubles of his own.  Troubles that he doesn’t go into detail about, because the men Cullen sent with him have helped immeasurably and he doesn’t want to bother her with it.

The report also attached to this one is the most recent, having only arrived the day before.  Written in Moira’s hand.

_Inquisitor,_

_Keeper Istimaethoriel has trusted me with this request.  We are helping to keep Wycome safe and the merchants have formed a collective to trade with us.  We have taken the city elves under our protection.  The city is leaderless, but is doing the best it can.  We are deeply worried that the nobles will convince other Marcher cities to attack.  If they do, we’re done for.  I have already been informed that Brandon has refused them, but that is only a small comfort._

_We don’t know what to do, ma falon.  We fear that leaving the city will save the clan but force others to be punished for our actions.  Yet without help, we are lost.  Please advise us on what to do.  We trust you.  I trust you._

_Dareth shiral,_

_Moira, First of Clan Lavellan_

Shea paces the war room, anxiously awaiting for her advisors to arrive.  She can’t read the rest of the reports.  They don’t feel as important to her as this.  She knows she couldn’t send an army to Wycome or go there herself like she wanted to.  She knows she can’t send Cullen like she wants to.  She doesn’t know what to do really.  Was there a diplomatic solution or was sending reinforcements her only option?

Cullen is the first to enter to war room as always.  He sees her pacing, running her fingers through her hair, and clutching a thick report.  He sets his own reports down and goes to her.  He doesn’t say a word and just takes the report from her.  She bites her nails as she watches him read.  He turns to the table and studies his markers.  “I’m sure Josephine will want to send her diplomats to track and talk these nobles down, but we’re already behind on this.  By now, those nobles could be marching on Wycome and would slaughter every elf in the city and then apologize for it afterwards.”  He points to one of his markers on the table.  She comes to stand next to him to look at it.  “These are the men I sent to help Clan Lavellan with their bandit problems.  They’ve been slowly making their way back, helping move Marchers away from rifts and such, so they are still in the Free Marches.”  He points to another marker on Ostwick, “These are the men I lent your brother.  If he thinks he can spare some of them, I can have both of these groups march on Wycome.  Clan Lavellan can let them in the gates and they can fortify and claim the whole city as property of the Inquisition.  With these number in addition to those the Dalish have, it would at least make the attacking nobles pause.”

“Then do it.  Use Sky.  She can use the rifts in the area to get the messages to Brandon and this other group faster than a normal raven.”

He smirks, “Don’t want to wait for the advice of the rest of your council, love?”

She kisses his cheek, “I don’t trust anyone’s advice more than yours, sweetheart.”

“Then, I’ll get on this right away.  Go ahead and start the meeting without me.  I’ll return shortly.”  He kisses her and leaves the war room, her report in his hand.  She sighs and presses her palms into the table.  She doesn’t know what Brandon will say, but she hopes he will agree.  Leliana and Josephine enter as she reaches forward to move Cullen’s markers to Wycome.

Leliana chuckles, “Does he know you’re planning troop movements now?”

“It was his idea.  He just left before moving them.  The situation with our Dalish allies in Wycome has become extremely volatile.  He’s handling that now.”

Josephine comes to stand next to her to see where she moved the markers from, “Shouldn’t we at least try to be diplomatic?”

She smirks, “He thought you might say that.  But no, these nobles are going around asking other Marcher cities to attack.  If they’ve already reached Ostwick, then we can bet they’ve reached other cities as well.  If we try to find them all, the elves in Wycome will die.”

“Then it seems you’ve made the right call.”

“I’m glad you think so, Josie.  Now let’s talk Corypheus.”

“I believe I can help with that.”  Morrigan enters the war room.  “Though it would have been better to act sooner rather than later, but no matter.”

“Any help you can offer would be appreciated.”

“What he seeks in those forgotten woods it as ancient as it is dangerous.”

She waits for her to continue.  Morrigan cocks a half smiles.  “What that is?”

“Follow me.  It’s best that I show you.”

Shea looks over her shoulder as she turns to follow Morrigan.  “I guess I’ll be back.”  She follows Morrigan out of the throne room.  She meets Cullen in the hallway. “Apparently, Lady Morrigan needs to show me something.  Go ahead and work on what you can without me.  I’ll be back when I’m able.”  He nods and tucks the report in his hand under his arm.  He briefly touches her hand and goes into the war room.  She quickly catches up to Morrigan

***

Cullen closes the door behind him as he enters.  “What was that all about?”

“It seems that Lady Morrigan knows what Corypheus is looking for in the Arbor Wilds.”

Leliana scoffs, “Why does that not surprise me?  She always seems to know more than she lets on.  It has always been that way.  As long as her goals line up with ours, we should have no problems.  I wonder though if we should let the Hero of Ferelden know she’s here?”

Cullen scratches the short beard growing on his chin.  He really needs to shave.  “You know her better than the rest of us.  Do you think that’s something she should know?”

“I’m not sure.  I’m not entirely sure how to even find her.  I hear she’s disappeared.”

Josephine places her hand on her chest, “You don’t think something has happened to her?  Like with the wardens?”

“Cassandra and I couldn’t find her when we were looking to ask her to join the Inquisition.”       

Cullen has to hide his smirk behind a report.  It amuses him greatly that he knows things, big things, which Leliana doesn’t.  He clears his throat to gather himself.  “The King of Ferelden would know.”

Leliana nods, “I can write to him.  We are friends after all.”

“Besides whatever Morrigan is up to, are there any other concerns we need to look into.  I’m already on Samson’s trail.  It’s personal, so I’m handling that.  With the Inquisitor’s help, of course.”

Leliana and Josephine exchange smiles, “We assumed as much, Commander.”

“Did you and Lady Trevelyan run off to have a secret wedding ceremony?”

He blushes and rubs his neck.  “What?  No.  Why would you say that?”

Josephine fans herself, “Where did you go?  Was it romantic?”

“Don’t we have better things to talk about?”

Leliana grins at him, “Did you finally make love to her?”

He chokes on air, “That’s… Maker’s breath… people are being killed by red templars and this is what you want to talk about?”

Shea comes back into the war room.  Cullen is beet red and rubbing his neck.  Her eyes shift to Leliana and Josephine who are sniggering.  “Commander, are they harassing you again?”

Josephine picks up her board, “There have been dozens of inquiries on the Commander’s availability and we were just trying to see how we should respond.”

“Indeed, we’ve had quite a few regarding your hand as well Lady Inquisitor.”

She cocks her eyebrow, “Me?  Why me?”

“You are first in line to House Trevelyan until your brother fathers heirs.  An alliance with both your family and the Inquisition would be a powerful thing.”

Shea glances over at Cullen.  His embarrassment mixing with anger.  She turns her attention back to Josephine, “If you choose to respond, kindly remind them that my brother is the man to address those concerns to and not you.  Though I hear he already has an arrangement for me.”  Cullen’s eyes snap to her and she winks at him.  He relaxes slightly.  She’s trying to turn this little game back on them.  “As far as the Commander is concerned, remind these people that an alliance by marriage doesn’t necessarily give them access to the Inquisition as the Commander is a very professional man and keeps his business and personal life separate.”

Josephine quickly scribbles a few things on her pad, “Oh!  I wasn’t aware Bann Trevelyan had convinced you to go along with him arranging something for you.”

“It’s all very hush-hush.  And quite controversial, so I’d appreciate it if you kept that to yourself.  Maybe just politely decline the offers stating that I’m already promised to another.”

She scribbles some more, “Can I ask?  What you mean by controversial?”

Cullen clears his throat, “I believe your brother said he was from Antiva.”

Shea shakes her head, “No.  He said near Antiva.”

The moment they knew they have them fooled arrives, Leliana looks down at the map, “Rivain is close to Antiva.”

Shea shakes her head, “No, I’d remember that.  The city had a weird name.”

Josephine gasps, “You don’t think he means to marry you off to a magister?”

“Gosh.  I hope not.  They aren’t exactly accepting of non-mage unions, according to Dorian.”

Cullen casually looks down at the map.  “Inquisitor.  What city did you say Dorian was from?”

“Oh!  Thank you, Commander.  Now, I remember.  He was talking to someone from Qarinus, which is where Dorian is from.”

“Maybe Dorian will know how he is.”

Leliana chuckles, “Maybe it is Dorian.”

Shea laughs, “Goodness, could you imagine?  He would be livid if his parents did that to him.  Especially to a _woman_ who isn’t a _mage._ ”

Josephine is writing furiously on her pad.  Cullen picks up a report to cover his face.  “We must talk to Dorian about all this.”

Shea smirks, “Allow me to speak with both him and my brother.  I would hate to have given you the wrong information.  Dorian deserves to know the truth.”

Leliana nods.  “Agreed.  Feel free to use one of my ravens if you would like to get the message to your brother quickly.”

Josephine looks down at the map on the table.  She squints her eyes and appears to be calculating something in her head.  “You two went to Ostwick, didn’t you?”

Shea thinks for a moment.  _Did that scout in the Hinterlands not report that they stopped at the camp?  Maybe he didn’t think he needed to since he wasn’t receiving news from Skyhold in his remote area.  Well, I’m already lying, why not one more?_   “Yes. It had been so long since I’d been back and with things being as they are in the Free Marches, I thought I’d take the opportunity.”

“I refused to let her go alone.”

The women nod.  He is having such a hard time keeping this going.  They are buying every single word.  Shea places her hand on the large stack of reports.  “So it appears we have a lot to do, that doesn’t involve my personal life.  We should probably get on that.”

***

When the meeting is finally over, Shea goes straight to Dorian in his reading alcove.  “Hey!”

“Thank goodness you aren’t dead!”  He snaps his book closed and pulls her into a hug.  “You look radiant, my dear.  And I never got the chance to tell you after your little escape, but you were prefect during that dance with Cullen!  I could have sworn by watching you that you already knew it.”

She beams at him, “He had an excellent teacher.”

“So he told you, did he?  I honestly didn’t think he would.”

“Every detail.  After a lot of coaxing on my part.”

“If you ever find yourself in Tevinter, I must show you how that dance is supposed to be done.  Maybe you’d even be my dance partner.”

She laughs, “Oh no you don’t.  Cullen told me what happens to the woman in this dance if done properly.  I’d like to keep my clothes on and unburnt thank you.”  They laugh together.  “Oh!  That reminds me why I came over here.  You know how Josie and Leliana like to mess with Cullen?”

“And you on occasion.”

“Well, we’re pulling the biggest prank ever right now.  But I need to get you and my brother in on it.  You game?”

“A chance to fool the master of spies?  Oh I’m in!”

“Great!  After I get word to my brother, I’ll let you know when I need you.”

“What is this big prank?”  Shea looks around and then whispers the whole war room exchange in Dorian’s ear.  His laughter echoes around the rotunda.  “I know just what to do.  Just let me know when.”

“Somewhere public, of course.”

“Naturally.  You know how I love an audience.  Are you two back to hiding your relationship then?”

“We talked about it.  We think that it would be best to keep people out of our business for a while.  It’s like our own private world.  Sneaking around, finding those rare private moments to be with each other.  It’s actually quite thrilling.”

“Good for you.”

“If there’s anything we learned while in Halamshiral, it’s that people are far too invested in our personal lives.  Cullen seems to think all that pressure everyone put him under regarding our relationship only pushed him further from me.  He’s stubborn like that.”

Dorian nods, “I can see that.  He’s always been a very private man.  As long as you are both happy, that’s all that matters.”

“Indeed.  Listen I’ve got a ton of things to catch up on.”

“Go on.  I’ve got to think about what I’m going to say during our little scene.”

She smiles and heads for her room.  Sky is perched on her desk.  She rushes over to the bird and scratches her head.  She picks up the letter from the desk and the bird flies off.  Her family seal is on it.

 

_Cullen or Shea,_

_Not sure which of you will get this first._

_Things have calmed down enough that I can part with over half of the men you lent me.  I’ve already sent them to Wycome under Cullen’s orders.  They will return to Ostwick once this business with the Dalish is completed.  Your men are well trained and have already prevented two attempts on my life.  I wish I knew who was trying to kill me.  And I believe our father was murdered.  Mother isn’t handling it well.  She wants to be with her family, so I’m going to send her back to Ghislain.  Once our grandparents send their personal guard to pick her up, she will most likely be moving and staying there._

_I’m not sure what else I can do to help.  And I hate to ask for more favors when I don’t know if I can offer anything in return.  But unless Shea wants to rule Ostwick while she’s busy being Inquisitor, I could really use some help trying to figure out this whole assassin thing._

_Brandon_

She groans.  _Assassins?  Seriously?_ She takes the letter with her back down the stairs.  She waves to Solas and Dorian as she passes them and climbs the stairs to Leliana’s office.  “Could you look at this for me?”

Leliana takes the letter from her.  “Assassins?  Do you think there’s a contract on him?”

“I don’t know.  But they’ve already killed my father.  Brandon is obviously on their list.  I could be too for all we know.  It feels like someone is trying to wipe out every Trevelyan with a claim.”

“I’ll put people on this right away.”

“Thank you.”

Shea goes all the way back to her room.  More reports litter her desk.  She groans and starts sifting through them.  Her head is swimming with all the new information she has leaned in the short time they’ve been back.  She rubs her temples trying to make it all sink in.  When one door closes, fifteen more seem to open.  They have the numbers to take on Corypheus directly, but first they need to find him and figure out what Samson is up to.  They are so close now to the biggest problem being done that she could practically taste it.  Yet this means her is closer to death than she’s been in a long time.  Before she can attempt to face Corypheus, or at least stop his latest plan of gaining control of a magic elven mirror called an Eluvian, she needs to resolve any unfinished business.  Making sure every rift she can close is locked tight and fast.  There are only a few more places to go, but they are far and probably more challenging than the rest.  She knows that she should pick a country and finish it up before she comes back to Skyhold.  Ferelden is pretty stable at the moment.  There are some place in Southern Ferelden she needs to go.  Maybe that should be her first step.  Finish everything she can in Ferelden, come back to Skyhold and do some work, then go to the western most part of Orlais and resolve everything out that way.  No, first she needs to figure out what Samson is doing.  Then she can do all that other stuff. 

She groans as her head throbs.  Pressure building behind her eyes.  Playing catch up is overwhelming her brain.  Too many things are swimming around at once.  She focuses on her breathing.  Slowly in and out.  Her elbows resting her desk as she massages her temples.  She squeezes her eyes closed and tries to clear her mind of all the things screaming for her attention.

She decides to change.  She feels hot in her armor and that can’t be helping with the headache.  She slowly stands and rests her hands on the desk as her head spins.  _Maybe a nap is in order?_   She shuffles to the wardrobe looking for something the change into.  She smiles when she sees a bundle of clothes tied with a ribbon and a note.

 

_Love,_

_I stole these from you in Halamshiral.  I thought you’d want them back._

_Well… I gave you a new shirt and threw the one we used while healing your back away._

_Cullen_

She unties the ribbon freeing his shirt and the shorts she made from his pants.  She sets them on the bed and turns to her armor form.  She takes off her armor on puts it away and as well as her undergarments, which she throws in the basket for your soiled clothes.  She pulls the band from her hair to free the ponytail.  Feeling her hair makes her remember she hasn’t had a real bath in weeks.  The closest thing she had was swimming in a lake, since the bathhouse at Kinloch Hold was disgusting and she used it for only a short rinse.  She rubs her temples again and shuffles towards her tub. 

She brushes her fingers along the side to illuminate the runes.  She touches the one that fills it.  Then she touches the one that heats it.  Once the runes fade, she touches that one again.  The runes fade leaving the water steaming.  She climbs in and thoroughly cleans herself.  Once she’s done, she leans against the tub wall and lets the hot water relax her tired muscles.  She’s sorer from all that riding than she realized.  She smirks as she catches the double meaning in her thought.

She muscles finally relax, though she can tell she has a few knots.  Maybe Cullen could give her a massage later.  She climbs out of the bath, grabs a towel, and dries herself off.  When she leaves the bathroom, Sky is perched on her desk with a letter in her beak.  Shea throws on her returned clothes and takes the letter from her.  The bird ruffles her feathers and waits on her desk.  Shea unfolds the letter and reads:

 

_Shea,_

_I hear whispers in the Fade that Morrigan is at Skyhold.  I hate to make you my messenger on this, but I would like to meet with her.  It’s… a personal matter.  I would have contacted her directly, but she keeps herself hidden when she’s in the fade.  Your help with this is appreciated._

_Danielle_

She groans.  She figured it had to be urgent if Danielle was asleep in the middle of the day.  She doesn’t really want to have to put clothes on again.  She is so comfortable.  She hangs her head and rubs her temples.  She shuffles to her wardrobe and puts her uniform on over her comfy clothes.  She doesn’t bother with socks and only laces her boots tight enough not to fall off her feet.  She scratches Sky’s head and leaves her room.

She doesn’t see Morrigan when she enters the garden.  She is about to groan that she came all this way for nothing when she hears a child speak to her.  “You’re the Inquisitor.”

She turns to the voice.  He heart nearly stops.  The child is around ten years old.  He has Morrigan’s dark hair and pale skin, but his features, his eyes, his cheekbones, his whole face really, looked exactly like Alistair’s.  Anyone who had ever met the King of Ferelden would recognize this child right away.  Shea instantly feels the need to protect this boy.  She doesn’t know why, she doesn’t even know his name, but she wants to keep him secret and safe. 

“I thought you’d be scarier.  Mother said you were scary.”

Shea smiles at him and kneels down to his level.  “Oh, I’m not so bad.  I would never be scary to my friends.”

“Is mother your friend?”

“We’ve only just met, but so maybe we’re not friends yet.  But she is definitely an ally.”

“Mother says people are afraid of things they don’t understand.”

“In my experience, I’d have to agree.  However, one can’t be afraid to learn about the things they don’t understand.”

He is clearly an intelligent child.  He scratches the back of his head in thought.  “But if you are afraid of the things you want to learn about, wouldn’t your fear stop you?”

She smiles at him, “That’s what courage and bravery are all about.  Pushing past your fears, facing them head on.  It’s a little hard to explain, but if you have a determination to learn about the things around you, no amount of fear can stop you.”

“I think mother was wrong about you.  You’re not scary at all.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Morrigan clears her throat.  “Kieran, are you bothering the Inquisitor?”  Shea stands up slowly, her head protesting the movement.

“Of course not!  Did you see what’s on her hand mother?”

“I did.”

Shea rolls up her sleeve, “Would you like to look at it?  I don’t mind.”  Morrigan looks at her wearily.  “If your mother, doesn’t mind.”

He looks excitedly up at her.  Morrigan sighs and nods.  Shea holds out her marked hand to him.  He peers down at the mark.  It’s very calm, only the faintest green light shining from it.  “Does it always look like that?”

“Only when I’m not using it or when it’s not near rifts or demons.  And sometimes it flares up for no reason in particular, but it’s been a long time since it’s done that.”

“Is it safe?”

“Yes.  You can touch it, if you want to.”  Kieran looks back at his mother, she nods her encouragement and holds out her hand.  He pulls off his gloves and hands them to her.  He turns back to Shea and she holds out her hand to him again.  He hesitates.  “It’s alright, Kieran.  It won’t hurt you.”

He closes his hand into a fist and slowly extends his index finger.  He carefully places the tip on his finger next to the mark.  When nothing happens, he drags his finger across her palm.  “It feels like old paper.  I can feel it’s magic.  But you don’t have magic.”

“That’s right.  I’m not a mage.  But it was placed there by very old magic.”

He looks back at his mother.  She offers him his gloves.  “Time to get back to your studies, little man.”  He groans, but does has he’s told.

Shea calls after him, “It was nice to meet you, Kieran.”  He turns back.  He smiles brightly, looking just like his father, and runs off.  “Has he met him?”

Morrigan looks at her as Shea rolls down her sleeve.  “What?”

“Kieran.  Has he met… his father?”

“No.  He hasn’t.  The arrangement was very specific.  You seem to know more than you’re letting on.”

“Yes.  I do, but we’re not exactly alone.”  She nods to a villager who is picking flowers.  “But what I can say is that he looks just like him.”

“You’ve met him then?”

“In the Fade and at Redcliffe, yes.  I’ve also met his wife.”

“The primary reason for my not reaching out sooner.  Kieran has expressed curiousity about his father, but my letter went unanswered.  He knows his father was a Grey Warden and a good man.  Though if you repeat that, I may have to kill you.”

Shea smiles, “I won’t.  I am on better terms with her than him in any case.  Speaking of.”  She pulls the note from her pocket.  “She reached out to me today.”  Morrigan takes the letter and quickly reads it.

“This paper is enchanted.”

“It’s a long and extremely secretive story, that I can tell you in private some time.  Long story short though.  I communicate with her through the Fade.”

“As you said, you are no mage.  How do you manage to do this?”

“Well… it’s complicated.  But I have this raven, who has been bound to a spirit…”

“You say spirit as if you know there is a difference.”

“There is.  I’ve been studying the Fade a lot since getting this mark.  I don’t claim to be an expert, but I know there’s a difference between demons and spirits.  Though the line can be thin at times.”

Morrigan crosses her arms, “You constantly surprise me, Inquisitor.  It is not often that a person can do that, especially one who isn’t a mage.”

Shea smiles, “I get that a lot.  Especially from mages.”

“So who enchanted the paper and bound the bird?”

“She enchanted the paper.  And I think Sky bound herself.  Cole said spirits watch me from the Fade and want to help.  Sky likes me so they like her.  Then… she said that it was a Spirit of Purpose.”

Morrigan looks around briefly looking for prying ears, “So, the Hero and Mage Queen of Ferelden wants to meet with me.  Did she say why?”

“You read the letter.  She didn’t say, though I’m sure she is waiting for me to respond.”

“In the middle of the day?  It must be important.  How much notice does she need?”

“You’re asking me?  I don’t know.  She’s a Dreamer and seems to be very good at traveling the Fade.  She’ll get my response almost immediately.  My advice is to look for a pink owl.  He seems to be her spirit friend.  The first time I went to the Fade I signaled with my mark.  Every time after that the owl went to get her.”

“Hold on.  You were in the Fade?”

“Physically?  Twice.  As a Dreamer?  I’ve lost count at this point.”

Morrigan shakes her head.  “You are an impossible woman.  You’ve done impossible things.  Follow me and I’ll write her a response.”  Shea follows Morrigan into the room holding the Eluvian.  She has set up a small writing table for herself.  “Does this paper need special ink?”

“Nope.  Regular ink works just fine.”  Morrigan scribbles her response, folds the letter, and hands it back to Shea.

“I would appreciate you not reading that.”

“Didn’t plan to.”

“I should probably go get ready for this.  I told her I’d meet her in an hour.  Would… would you watch Kieran?  I shouldn’t be gone long.”  Shea nods and groans in her head.

“Certainly.  We’ll be in the rotunda when you get done.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor.  I’ll send him to meet you there, before I go to the Fade.”  Shea nods and turns to go back up her stairs.

Her head pounds with each step and she thinks to herself that she is far too nice a person.  She should have just gone to sleep like she wanted to.  But here she is running a secret correspondence to the Hero of Ferelden, again.  She opens her door and Sky is just sitting on her desk, eating a cricket.  “Went and got a snack did you?”  She scratches the raven’s head and sets the letter in front of her, “When you finish your lunch, take that back to Danielle please.”  The raven swallows its food and picks up the letter.  It hops to the edge of her desk before flying out the open balcony door.

Shea runs her fingers through her hair.  She sighs and then goes back down the stairs for what feels like the hundredth time today.  She goes right to the rotunda, waves at Solas, and goes to join Dorian in his alcove.  She drops into the high back chair across from him and rubs her temples.  “Long day?”

“It’s not over yet.”

“Headache?”

She smirks, “How’d you know?”

He cracks his knuckles and points to the floor in front of him.  “Come sit.”  She sits on the ground between his knees and folds her legs underneath her.  He summons magic into his fingers and presses his hand at the base of neck.  “Relax or this won’t work.”

“I am relaxed.”

“Well, then your very tense.  Has that masculine boyfriend of yours not given you a massage?”

“Not recently.”

“Tsk tsk tsk.  He really should.  Now shush.”  He presses his thumbs into the base of neck on either side of her spine wrapping his fingers gently around her neck.  He sends his magic into her tight muscles and through her nerves.  It feels cold, but causes her to melt.  He massages her neck, head, and scalp.  She completely loses track of time or even the concept of what time is.  She hears him chuckle.  “It appears we have an audience.”

She opens one eye and sees Kieran watching them.  She reaches over and pats the high back chair she was sitting in.  “Come on over and have a seat.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Dorian of House Pavus.  And you are?”

“I am Kieran.”

“Nice to meet you.  Don’t mind us.  The Inquisitor has a bit of a headache.”  Dorian’s hands continue their work.

“You’re a mage?”

“Indeed I am.  Judging by the book in your hands, I would have to assume you are too.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Oh, and he’s polite.”

Kieran watches Dorian work.  “What spell is that?”

 “It’s fairly basic.  A simple healing spell.  Typically used for minor scrapes, but combine it with massage.”  Shea moans softly as he presses his thumbs into the dip where her neck meets her head.  “And it can help loosen stiff muscles and relieve the headache caused by it.”

“Could I try?”

Shea looks over at the child.  Dorian drops his magic and hold out his hand.  “Try it on me first.  I got a nasty paper cut earlier and I’d hate for you to fry the Inquisitor’s brain.”

Shea is nervous about this, “Kieran, how does your mother feel about you using magic in public?”

“This isn’t very public.  She doesn’t mind it if other mages are around to watch me.”

“I would hate for her to be mad at us.”

“She won’t be.”

“Go ahead then.”

Kieran looks at Dorian, “Should I take my gloves off?”

“That’s probably a good idea.  I find when you are first learning a new spell that the fewer interferences the better.”  Shea watches Dorian give instructions to Kieran.  She finds herself thinking about what Dorian would be like as a father.  Judging by his patience as Kieran fails a few times to replicate the spell, she thinks he would be an excellent father.  Well, after the whole messy stage passes of course.  His children would also be very fashionable and well read.  He’d have it no other way.

Kieran beams up at Dorian as he closes his cut.  “I did it!”

“Excellent work!  You’ll need a little more practice with that before working with someone’s head, but it’s a great start.”  Kieran picks up his book from the floor and sits back in his chair.  He puts his gloves back on.

Dorian starts working on Shea’s neck again while Kieran watches attentively.  Solas comes up the stairs after hearing Dorian’s little magic lesson.  “And who might this be?”

“I am Kieran.”

“And I am Solas.”

“It’s very cold here.  Aren’t your feet cold?”

Solas smirks, “I’m used to it.”

Dorian looks up at Solas while he massages Shea.  “Young Kieran here is on his way to becoming a very talented mage.  He’s a quick study.”  He looks over at Kieran.  “Solas is a mage as well.  If you ever want to know about the Fade, he is the one to ask.”

Kieran sits forward in his chair.  “Do you have any good stories?”

Solas pulls a chair over from a nearby table and sits with them.  “I have a lot of stories.  I enjoy walking the Fade.”

“Would you tell us one?”

Shea rolls her eyes.  She’s willing to put coin down that she has heard whatever story he’s going to tell.  She’s right, of course.  So, she focuses on the massage as he tells it.  Her mind wanders to what Solas would be like as a father.  He would probably be strict but gentle.  He would relish in teaching his child everything he knew of the Fade.  And if that child were a Dreamer like him, she imagines them walking the Fade together. 

Kieran, Dorian, and Solas talk about magic and tell stories about some of their lighter experiences.  Morrigan clears her throat and they all turn to look at her.  “Hello, mother.”

“Have you made some friends, Kieran?”

“I think so.  They are mages.  Dorian taught me a healing spell.”

“Did he now?”

Dorian shrugs, “He said you wouldn’t mind.  He’s very gifted.”

“That he is.  Is something wrong with the Inquisitor?”

Shea looks at her, “Just a headache.”

“I healed Dorian’s paper cut!”

“He wanted to try what I’m doing to the Inquisitor, but I thought it best he get more practice.”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want him to cook her brain.”

“That was my exact reasoning.”

Morrigan holds out her hand to Kieran, “Come along now.  It’s time for dinner.”  He takes her hand and tucks the book under his arm.

“Thank you for the lessons.”

Dorian and Solas nod to him as Morrigan leads him away.  Solas stands and puts his chair back.  “I should get back to my own studies.”  He goes down to his desk.

Dorian stops his magic and pats her on the shoulder.  She stands and sits in the chair Kieran vacated.  “Thank you.  My head feels much better.”

“You’re welcome.”  Dorian opens his book and starts reading.

She doesn’t move to leave right away.  She has a strong desire to discuss her thoughts with the mage.  To see what he thinks Solas would be like as a father?  Or if he ever imagines himself as one?  Her thoughts drift to Cullen.  She finds herself thinking about what their child might look like.  Would they have his hair?  His eyes?  What kind of father would he be?  Before she can dig too deeply into that thought it flips on her.  What would she be like as a mother?  A shiver runs up her spine.  She’s never seriously considered the possibility.

She doesn’t know how she feels about kids.  The few interactions she’s had with children have been good ones, but they were few in number.  She had been brought up to never hope for children.  That wasn’t in the cards for her before now.  Now that she is in the line of succession in Ostwick, she knows that it is her responsibility to breed more Trevelyans.  But that Idea disgusts her.  Though she might be heading towards a reconciliation with her brother, she still wants nothing to do with that life.  She still never wants to go back to her former home.  She has very few untainted happy memories and everything she really wants is here.

But where did children fit in her new life?  Templars weren’t forbidden from marrying and having families, but it was rare.  She always said she was fine with being dedicated to the Chantry and that it never bothered her that she might never have children.  All of that was true when she said it.  Now though, she’s happy she’s not trapped in that life.  Seeing what being a templar did to Cullen and what her family had done for centuries, makes her almost grateful that she received the mark.

Her thoughts return to Cullen.  She doesn’t know how he feels about children.  She should probably ask him.  She should also figure out how she feels about it since he will likely ask her the same question. She shakes her head.  If she can’t even express to him that she loves him, then how could she possibly have children with him?  She now knows why she freaks out when she’s late.  She also releases it’s not even him.  She has thought for so long that she didn’t want kids, now she knows for sure.  Her freak outs are the key.  She doesn’t want children.  How would he feel about that?

She needs to dissect this.  Why doesn’t she want them?  Is she just not ready?  Will she ever be ready?  Is it the idea of bringing a children into this fucked up world?  Immediately, she knows that this is the key question.  If she could fix the world, or at least make things stable, would she feel comfortable bringing a child in the world?  His child? 

Someone clears their throat breaking through her thoughts.  She looks up.  “Jim.  What can I do for you?”

“The Commander is asking for you.”

She glances over at the window in Dorian’s alcove.  The sun is still shinning, so this must be work related.  “Is he in his office?”

“Yes, Inquisitor.”

She stands.  “Then I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”  Jim turns and walks off.  She looks over at Dorian.  “Thanks again.”

“Are you going to tell me what you were thinking out just now?  Or will I have to harass you on the road about it?”

She smirks, “You’ll harass me regardless.”

“True.  Well, off you go.  You’re lover awaits.” She blushes and heads down the stairs, past Solas, and across the bridge to his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> UPDATED July 25, 2018


	57. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm indulging fully into my headcanon for this one. Hope you like it!!!
> 
> *** time/pov shift

They never got to have their lunch.  Shea, Dorian, Bull, and Varric all had to leave before they got their chance.  She had thrown open his office door after clearly running up the stairs to get there.

“Blackwall is gone.  We have a lead, but we have to go now.  I’m sorry we won’t get to have our lunch.”

He rushed over to her.  “Anything I can do?”

“Meet us in Val Royeaux.  You should probably leave by this evening or even mid-afternoon.  I have a bad feeling about this and he has a head start.”

“Gladly.”  She kissed him and ran out his office.

Now, here he stands in the prison in Val Royeaux, waiting to tell her everything he could find out in the short time he’s been there.  Blackwall is actually Thom Rainer.  Though he has never heard the name before, it doesn’t take much to find out what he’s done.  He is angry.  The crimes he committed were horrible, unthinkable.  Ordering his men to murder an entire family, including the children, lying to them about why, and then leaving them to pay for his crimes by fleeing to some far off place.  Yet, he can’t bring himself to hate the man completely.  The man he knows is loyal and is at least trying to make up of past mistakes.  When it comes down to it, Rainer turned himself in, risking his own death, instead of letting another die in his place.  He would leave the matter in Shea’s hands, but if she asks him for his advice and opinion he’d be honest.  He thinks that maybe Rainer deserves the second chance he has been trying to live out as Blackwall.  He isn’t sure he will be able to actually speak to him for some time.  His disgust and anger for Rainer’s crimes is too much to completely ignore.

Shea comes charging up the stairs and he moves from his spot to stop her.  “Inquisitor!”

She sighs and turns to him.  “You made it.”

“You were right to have me come here.”

“What have you learned?”

“Leliana sent a report about what she could find out about Thom Rainier.  He was well respected in the Orlesian army.  Before the civil war began in earnest, he was… persuaded to assassinate one of Celene’s greatest supporters.”

“So Gaspard paid him off, or at least someone who supported Gaspard, to kill this supporter.”

“Right.  He led a group of fiercely loyal men and told them nothing of his motives.  His men took the fall for him.”

She nods.  “He said as much.”

“You spoke with him?”

“I felt it only fair to get his side of things.  He has seen what real leaders and good people do.  He seems to regret what he’s done and this is his attempt to… atone for his crimes.”

He sighs and puts his hands on his hips.  “He fooled us all.  Even Leliana.  What do you want to do?  Black… Rainer has accepted his fate.”

She rubs her chin. “I know what I _want_ to do, but I can’t decide if it’s the _right_ thing to do.  If you were in my shoes, what would you do?”

He chuckles, “I was afraid you’d ask me that.  What he did to the men under his command is… unacceptable.  He betrayed their trust and ours.  I… despise him for it.  But, he fought as a Warden, helped us in our attempts to redeem them.  He joined the Inquisition and gave his blood to our cause.  And the moment his past came to light, he owned up to it.  I wonder why that is?”

She sighs, “People change.  He wanted a good man to live and the vile betrayer to die.  That’s why he lived as Blackwall for so long.  He wanted… wants to be a better man.  I can’t say I fault him for it.”

“I can sympathize with that.  I’ve done things that I wish I hadn’t and have made it a point to improve myself to make up for those mistakes.”

“Which is not so different from Bla… Rainer.  Do you think we could have him released to us?”

“I would take some time and more than a few favors, but if that’s what you want, then yes.  If he is released to us, Celene may allow you to pass judgement on him yourself.”

She nods, “Make that happen then.  I don’t want anyone to die for his mistakes.  So, make it legal.  Use our connections to the Empress.  She owes us a great deal.”

“I’ll get on it right away.  I may need Josephine’s help.”

“Do what you need to and let me know when he’s back in Skyhold.  Though he would be a prisoner until I return, at least make him comfortable.  Though he has a hidden past and a different name, I still feel like he is our friend and deserves at least that much.” 

He shakes his head, “You are far kinder than I would be, if the tables were turned.  I might be more inclined to leave him here.”

“No, you wouldn’t.  He is your friend even more than he is mine.  You might feel anger and resentment for his lie and his past actions, but you know as well as I do that he is not that man anymore.  He has changed.  He is a good man and I don’t think that this changes anything.”

“As you say, Inquisitor.”  He motions to the door that leads out of the prison.  She walks ahead of him as they leave.  He takes her hand and leads her to a small secluded courtyard.  “It will be dark soon.  Do you plan to stay in the city before continuing your trip or are you headed out right away?”

“Did you have something in mind?”

“I do.  But I need to send word to Josephine as soon as possible.”

“I could rent some rooms for us.  Stay in the city for the night.  The problems out there will still be there in the morning.”

He smiles.  “Then let me get this done.  Where should I meet you?”

“I believe there is an inn is off the main square.  We could meet in the middle of it.”

“How about we meet at the inn?  I was thinking we could go out somewhere.  Out of armor.”

She grins, “Are you asking me on a date, Commander?”

He rubs his neck.  “I… uh… if that’s what you want… I mean… yes.”

She gives him a small peck on the cheek, “Then I’ll meet you in the foyer of the inn.  At sun down?” 

He nods.  “Great!  I can’t wait.”

She walks off towards the inn.  She looks back at him before she is out of sight.  She pushes her hair behind her ear and sends him a bashful smile, before vanishing down the stairs.  This impromptu date meant he had some more things to do after sending her instructions to Josephine.

***

Shea has rented three rooms.  One for Varric, one for Dorian and Bull, and one for her and Cullen.  It is pricy but she buys them the best rooms they have available on such short notice.  Before she can even get settled into the room, there is a knock on her door.  She opens it.  A small woman with caramel colored skin and curled hair is standing there holding a box.  “May I help you?”

“Are you Shea Trevelyan?”

“Yes.  May I ask who is asking?”

The woman curtsies slightly, “My clients call me Madame Durand.  But you, my dear may call me Lucy.”

“What can I do for you, Lucy?”

The woman chuckles, “You can sit in that chair there and let me work.  I have been hired to prepare you for a romantic evening.”

Shea steps back from the doorway, allowing Lucy to enter.  “I bet I know who hired you.”

“Lord Rutherford has very specific instructions.  He picked out the dress.  Well, he picked the color.  He did however say that you have final approval since he knows you have…”  Lucy looks Shea up and down, “particular tastes.”

“I am opinionated yes.  I’m not Orlesian, which I imagine is obvious, and there are a few of the… fashions that I don’t like.”

“He thought you’d like this, so I suppose we’ll see.  He said you might not have anything I could use with you.  Is that correct?”

Shea closes the door and grabs her bag.  She opens it and dumps the contents on the couch. “I have some fairly basic things.”  The woman sets her box down and starts going through the things.

She hands things to Shea as she goes, “Makeup.  Hair things.  A mirror.  Hmmm.”  He holds up a green and silver embroidered corset.  “This is nice, but it won’t work with the dress he picked.  Good thing I brought my own.  You get that… stuff off.  How clean are you?”

“I could probably use a bath to be honest.  I was actually about to take one before you showed up.”

“Then be quick about it!  I got a lot of work to do.”  Shea shakes her head.  This is just like being a noble all over again.  A repeat of Halamshiral as well.  With that in mind, she wastes no time stripping out of her armor and laying it neatly in the corner.  She ducks into the bathroom to quickly bathe and wash her hair. As she gets out of the tub, Lucy attacks her with perfume.  “It sticks better when your skin is wet.  Now dry off and hurry up.”  Shea rolls her eyes and dries her skin and hair.  She wraps the towel around herself and goes back to be beautified by Lucy.

***

Cullen paces the foyer of the inn waiting for her.  He doesn’t have a set schedule, but he wants as much time with her as he can get.  His hair is slicked back in his usual style, he almost left the curls, but it makes him feel uneasy to be out and about like that.  He has rented some formal clothes.  Black boots, white pants, white gloves, and a dark blue formal jacket.  He doesn’t know her favorite flower, it isn’t something that they have ever discussed.  But he bought her a red rose because that’s what the merchant suggested.  He has it hidden behind his back.  Movement at the top of the stairs catches his eye and he stops pacing.

He sees the dark blue satin heels first.  Her matching dress is long and flowing.  Not a poof in sight.  His eyes trace up her body as she slowly walks down the stairs.  The dress hugs her curves. The thick straps go over her shoulders and neckline is in the shape of a heart, perfectly framing her cleavage.  Her auburn hair has been tightly twisted into roll that goes vertically up the back of her head.  A few wisps of hair have escaped around her face.  Her lips are red and her eyes pop from the shadowy makeup around her eyes.   Her beauty always takes him by surprise and he hopes the feeling never goes away.

As she approaches him, he pulls the rose from behind his back and a smile illuminates her face.  She takes it from him and smells it.  Her long eyelashes dancing over her cheeks.  “It’s lovely.  Thank you.”

“It pales in comparison to you.”  Her cheeks flush and he offers her his arm.  She hooks her arm with his.  “Shall we?”

“Where are we going?”

“I hope you haven’t eaten.”

She smiles at him, “I’m starving.”

“Then come with me.”

“I already am.”

He chuckles as he leads her through the glittering streets.  “I hope you don’t get cold.  Madame Durand said you wouldn’t but I know how easily you get cold.”

“It’s a pleasant enough evening.  And if I get cold,” She wraps his arm around her shoulders.  “I’ve got you.”

He smiles and runs his finger along her jaw, “That you do.”  He opens a door and motions for her to step in.  The restaurant is completely vacant.  Candles are lit everywhere giving the room a warm glow.  He offers her his arm again, which she takes, and they follow a waiter to the only table in sight.  Cullen pulls the chair out for her and pushes it in as she sits.  Cullen sits across from her.

“Where are all tables?”

He grins.  “I rented the whole place.  So they moved all the tables out.”

“That must have cost a fortune.”

“Don’t worry about that.” 

A sharply dressed waiter approaches them and bows.  “My Lord.  Madame.  What may I get for you this evening?”

Cullen clears his throat, “I would like a bottle of your finest Antivan port.”

The waiter bows.  “Yes, ser.”  He turns on his heel and leaves.

Shea smirks, “Why that one?”

“I’m hoping it’s the same one we lost back in Haven.  We never got to finish that bottle.”

She sighs.  “That was good wine.”

The waiter returns.  He pops the cork and is about pour the wine into their glasses.  Cullen stops him.  “If I’m not mistaken, this wine is supposed to breathe for an hour.”

“Yes, ser.  I only just put the cork in to avoid spilling it.”  He nods and allows the waiter to pour the wine.  Shea covers her mouth to keep from laughing.  The waiter backs away and leaves.

“What?”

“Nothing.  You just make a convincing noble.”

He smirks, “Well, that’s because I told them I was.  In fact, I told them I was the heir to my father’s throne.  They didn’t ask where thankfully.  Or I might have accidently said Denerim and I would have been found out since Alistair and I are the same age.”

She laughs, “Or maybe they would have thought you were another of Maric’s children.”

“Possibly.”

“What made you do that?”

“Honestly?  I have no idea.  It just sort of came out.”

“Does that make me your princess then?”

“If you like.  Why not?”  He picks up his glass and raises it to her.  She picks hers up and does the same.  “To being someone else for a night.”  They clink their glasses and sip the wine.

“Mmm.  It’s the same wine.”

“That it is.  Maybe we’ll get a chance to finish it this time.”

“Here’s hoping.”  The waiter returns with two small plates of food.

“You’re starter this evening is cheese and herb stuffed wild mushrooms coated in a honey glaze reduction.”  He sets the plates in from of them, bows, and leaves.

“This looks… interesting.”

He nods.  “That’s one word for it.  Who puts honey on mushrooms?”

She chuckles. “Orlesians.  Dorian said the ham at the Winter Palace tasted of despair.  Whatever that means.”  They each take a bite.  “Ok.  That’s actually surprisingly good.”  They eat, joke, laugh, and talk about nothing in particular through all three courses.  They finish the whole bottle of wine.  She daps her lips with her napkin after they have finished dessert.  “I’m so full.”

“Not too full I hope.  I have a few more things planned.”

“Oh?”

He nods.  “Are you ready to go?”

“Don’t you need to pay?”

“Already taken care of.” He folds his napkin and sets it on the table.  He stands and pulls her chair out.  She takes his arm and stands.  He pulls some coin from his pocket and leaves a stack on the table.  He leads her out of the restaurant nodding to the waiter as they leave. 

“So, what’s next on our date?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Oh really?  Then do lead on, my prince.”  They laugh as he leads them down the street.  She hears soft music drifting towards them.  He leads her into a garden that has a band set up in it.  There are few other couples around.  Tables ring the area and there are couples having drinks and laughing.  It is more relaxed than she’s ever seen Orlesian dancing.  Some of the dancing couples are just sort of swaying together while others are doing more elaborate dances.  “Have you suddenly taken an interest in dancing?”

“No.  But I know it’s something you enjoy.  So, I figured you’d enjoy this.”

She kisses his cheek.  “Indeed I do, but we don’t have to dance if you don’t want to.”  She wipes the lipstick from his cheek with her thumb.  He walks her onto the dance floor.  He wraps his arms around her.  She drapes her arms around his neck and plays with the back of his hair as they move to the music together.  Nothing fancy, just a little swaying and the occasional spin.  They completely lose track of time.  The moon is high over heard when the dancers start to leave.  She looks around for the first time since they started dancing.  “Do you realize that we’ve been dancing for hours?”

“Have we?”  He looks up at the moon, “So, we have.  One more activity this evening, but if you’re tired, we can skip it.”

“No, no, no.  You have put a lot of thought into this.  With everything going on today, you had to be running all over Val Royeaux the moment I left you.  We’re doing everything you have planned!”

He smiles, “Alright.  Come with me then.”  She takes his arm and he leads her back through the city.  He places his hand in his pocket as they walk.  He is suddenly very nervous.  He hides it well but his stomach is doing flips.  He leads her back to the inn.

“This is where your last activity is?”

“Not quite.”  He leads her up some stairs and motions for her to sit on a bench.  They have a clear view of the moon and the glittering stars in the cloudless sky.  He wraps his arms around her and she snuggles against him on the bench.  She hears a whistling noise and looks over at him.  He points up at the sky as an explosion of the light fills it.  She watches the fireworks for a moment.

“Did you do that for me?”  He nods.  “Cullen, this is… wonderful.  And obviously expensive.”

“The smile you’ve had on your face all night as made this worth every copper.”  They watch the fireworks again.  He fiddles with something in his pocket and looks over at her.  “So, I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“Us.  Our future after all this Corypheus business is over.  I don’t know what will happen to the Inquisition after that, but that’s not the point.  If after all is said and done, and you could go anywhere and do anything you wanted, what would you do?”

She looks up at him, “As in, he is dead and the rifts are closed all over Thedas.  The areas we’re working to stabilize can run on their own without our help.  The world doesn’t need the Inquisition anymore?”

“Yes.”

She sighs, “I’ve been trying not to think about it.  I’ve just been focused on achieving those goals.”

“Would you want the Inquisition to end?”

She shrugs.  “I have no idea.  We do amazing work and have helped so many people.  If the Inquisition ended, what would happen to the people living in Skyhold?  What happens to Skyhold itself?  It is my home now and I don’t like the idea of leaving it.  Even if all that happens, something is always going wrong in Thedas.  And with the wardens of Orlais under our control as well as the mages, what happens to them if we disband?  Bah!  I don’t want to think about all of this on a professional level just yet.  On a personal level, what would you do?”

“I want to be with you.  Regardless of what you decide to do professionally, I’ll be right by your side.  Advising you every step of the way.  Beyond that?  I’d like to go see my family.  I would want you to go with me, of course.  That means travelling to South Reach.”

Butterflies flutter around in her stomach.  “You want me to meet your family?”

“You sound surprised and nervous about that.  You have nothing to worry about.  Even if they hated you, which I know they won’t, it wouldn’t matter.  Just means I won’t settle down in South Reach when I finally stop working.  Though I have a hard time figuring out when that would be.”

“You want to move to South Reach?”

He runs his fingers along her jaw.  “Only if that’s where you wanted to go.”

“I don’t know where I’d want to be.  Part of me hopes to stay in Skyhold forever, but that’s probably unrealistic.”

“Depends on the fate of the Inquisition, I suppose.  The one thing I know for sure is that my ideal future, meaning whenever I’m done with all this military business, then I’d like to settle into a farm in Ferelden somewhere.”

Shea laughs.  “A farm?”

“Yes, a farm.  Grow my own food.  Be completely self-reliant.  What is farm life not for you?”

“I was born and raised a noble.  I don’t know the first thing about farm life.”

“I know a few things, but it’s been a very long time since I’ve done anything more than casual gardening.”

She laughs.  “Why am I just finding out about this?”

“About what?”

“Causal gardening.”

“Oh.”  He blushes and rubs his neck.  “I just… help out.  Harvesting the various herbs growing in the garden if I see that they’re ready.  Then take it to the girl Adan got to replace him when he ‘retired’.”

“When on earth do you have time to do that?”

“On my way to or from the war room.”

She laughs, “You realize that’s out of the way right?”

“And yet I’m always there first. So, tell me something.  If farm life isn’t for you, what would you want to do?”

She looks up at the fireworks, “I honestly have no fucking idea.  My life got derailed at the conclave.  And after everything that’s happened or come to light, I know I don’t want to go backwards.  Meaning I don’t want to go from being the leader of an organization to some noblewoman who gets married off for her family’s gain and forced to do nothing but pop out kids.  I’ve never wanted that life.  And I don’t want to go back to the life I was assigned to, being a templar or some Chantry sister.  Hell, one of my dearest friends might end up being Divine.  How could I possibly fade away into some background character when she will probably need friends and advisors?  In a nutshell, I know what I don’t want, but not what I want.”

“Save one thing I hope?”

She looks over at him.  She sees the worry on his face and places her hands on either side of his face.  “I thought that we were dealing in what-ifs.  You are a constant.  No matter what I do, you’ll be there.  You said that yourself.”

He smiles.  This is it.  This is his chance to have that talk with her.  It is now or he’ll have to wait until everything is over.  “Do remember that last letter Danielle sent us?”

She slides her hands down his face and into her lap.  She has a feeling she knows where this is going and it scares her, because she isn’t entirely sure what she’ll say.  “I was actually thinking about it the other day.  I assume you’re talking about the… uh… children part.  It made me wonder your thoughts on the subject.”

He pauses for a moment, gathering his words.  “I haven’t really given it much thought.  Though I did have a passing thought about it the other day.  I never pictured myself as a father.  Templars aren’t forbidden to have families and father children, as long as it wasn’t with mages.  But most of us never dreamed of a life outside the circles.  I had always figured that’s what my life would be.  But I’ve chosen a different path for myself.  So… I suppose it might be nice to have children.  Not right now, of course.  I wouldn’t feel right bringing an innocent life into the world as it is now.  Chaos and death around every corner.  The mage/templar war is all but over.  As is the civil war in Orlais.  But Corypheus is still the greatest threat Thedas has ever had.  I wouldn’t feel right trying to raise a child in this environment.  Though I’m not getting any younger.  What about you?”

“I don’t know.  Children were never part of my future growing up.  And now… I’m expected to.”

“I can understand that you might feel pressured.  But what do _you_ want?  Forgetting about your status.”

She looks over at him.  “I really don’t know.  I agree with that whole not bringing a child into the world right now part, but after…?  I still don’t know.”

He can see that his answer is giving her pause.  She has this guilty look on her face.  Yes may have been the wrong answer.  He brushes hair from her face and tucks it behind her ear.  “Love.  If you aren’t ready for children, that’s fine.  If you decide you don’t ever want children, that’s also fine.  As long as we’re together and happy, the rest doesn’t matter.”  She lets out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“You wouldn’t be upset about that?”

“No.  But… for what it’s worth… I think you would be a fantastic mother.”

She turns to face him, “Really?  Why?”

“Well, when you were taking care of me, I started thinking about how good you were at it.  And then I started thinking about what I would do after all this.  Then I remembered Danielle’s letter and her suggestion.  Based on how well you did taking care of me, my mind sort of drifted to what you’d be like with children.  I came to the conclusion that you’d be a fantastic mother.”

“I’m not sure how to respond to that.  Except to say I was having thoughts like that the day I found you in your office.  I blame Morrigan’s son, Kieran, for that.  Watching the boy interact with Dorian and Solas made me think of what they’d be like as fathers.  And then I started thinking about you.  About what our kids might look like.  Would they have your hair or your eyes?  But then I started thinking about what I’d be like as a mother.  The few interactions I’ve had with children haven’t been horrible.  I’ve said my whole life that it never bothered me that I might never have children.  But at this moment, adding that element to my life makes me feel trapped because of all this heir to Ostwick business.”

“So, for right now, is it fair to say you are… undecided on the matter of children?”

“That’s fair, yes.  Just because I know I don’t want them right now, doesn’t mean I won’t change my mind later.”

He nods.  “So, we can table this for now.  I had one other thing I wanted to talk to you about.  Though I’m beginning to think I should wait.”

“More talk of the future?”

His heart jumps into his throat as he sticks his hand back in his pocket.  Maybe he should wait.  She looks freaked out to him.  Being freaked out isn’t the best mood to be in for what he plans to do.  But again he thinks that if he doesn’t do it now, he might have to keep putting it off.  When he doesn’t respond right away, she returns her gaze to the sky.  The fireworks are still going and she wonders if it’s pissing anyone off since they are exploding in the middle of the night.  She looks down over the railing and sees that people have come out into the street to watch them.  She chuckles.  _Orlesians._

“Shea?”  She looks over her shoulder at him.  “I… I’ve been… Maker this is harder than I thought.”  He rubs his neck.  She straightens in her seat and tries to read his face.  He’s nervous about something.

“I’m sure I can handle whatever it is you need to say.”

He clear his throat.  “I’ve tried to think of the exact words I would say… how I’d go about expressing my thoughts… but could never really land on anything.”  He removes his hand from his pocket.

“I’m sure you can come up with something.  You’ve always been good at saying the right things when you need to.”

He takes a deep breath and takes a moment to center himself.  He knows he can do this, but he doesn’t like the idea of them having to part ways in the morning.  But as before, it is either do it now, or have to wait however long it takes for things to calm down again.  He stands and moves to stand in front of her.  “Shea.  From the moment I met you, I knew I wanted to be with you.  Though I’m sure I’ve said that before… Uh… It was kind of like when a mabari pup first sees the person they are supposed to be with.  They imprint on them and that bond lasts until death.  Maybe that’s not the best analogy… In any case, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone.  I feel like, despite some rockiness at Halamshiral… probably shouldn’t mention that… uh… I feel like we were made for each other and uh…”  He sticks his hand in his pocket.  As he stumbles through his speech, Shea’s pulse has steadily increased.  She has a feeling she knows what he’s about to say and her answer is just waiting for the opportunity to fall out.  He rubs his neck.  “This might be too soon or maybe it’s long overdue, I don’t know… but this seems like the last chance we’ll have for any real alone time, so… I… don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Take a breath.  Stop pacing.  And look at me.”

 _When did I start pacing?_   He stands in front of her again and his eyes lock with hers.  The words he’s been searching for come flying out of his mouth, “You are the most important thing in my life.  More than the Inquisition, more than Corypheus, more than Samson, more than Lyrium, more than anything.  I’ve known it every single day I’ve known you.  Even when I’ve been stupid and pushed you away, I’ve known it.  I don’t ever want my stupidity to interfere again.  So, I make you this promise.  I will love you, forever.  I will love no one else but you until the day that I die.  We’ve been talking about our future and I think there’s one thing we can agree on.”  He goes down on one knee and Shea covers her mouth with both hands.  Tears leap from her eyes. She knew it was coming but that does stop her emotions from running wild.  He pulls his hand out of his pocket and holds out a silver band with diamonds and deep blue sapphires embedded in an alternating pattern all around it.  The fireworks and soft lighting from the lamps glitter off its surface.

He reaches up and pulls her marked hand from her face.  “Shea Trevelyan.  It would be my honor to call myself your husband.  Will you marry me?”  He looks nervous and concerned.  It suddenly occurs to him that she could say no.

“Of course, I will!  As if that’s even a question!”  He smiles brightly and slips the ring on her finger.  He isn’t even fully standing when she launches herself off the bench.  Her arms fly around his neck and her lips crash into his.  She completely ignores the fact that his face will be covered in red lipstick.  He wraps his arms tightly around her waist, picking her up off the ground.  They kiss as the fireworks build to a climax, filling the sky with bursts of pink, purple, and blue.

He sets her down and she cleans the lipstick of his face as she laughs and smiles.  Then she looks at her hand.  Her heart is singing and she wants nothing more than for this ring to be the only thing she is wearing.  “Do you like it?”

“Like it?  Sweetheart, I love it!”  She laces her fingers with his and heads back towards the inn.

“Where are we going?”

“I hope you didn’t have anything else planned, because I’ve got plans of my own now.”

“Is that so?” 

She stops as they enter the square and grabs his face.  She kisses him and then whispers against his lips.  “I want this ring to be the only thing I have on in the next ten minutes.”

He kisses her long and deep.  Then he scoops her up in his arms and practically runs back to the inn.  Her laughter bounces off the sleeping walls.  The few people left in the street after the fireworks faded, all look at them as he carries her.  He sets her down as they reach the doors to the inn.  He opens the door for her and then follows her up the stairs.  She stops in front of their door and fishes for the key in her cleavage.  He chuckles and kisses her neck as she struggles to find the key.  She laughs because she can feel it but can’t reach it.  The door across the hall flies open at the exact moment she cries out in victory.

“Do you two have any idea what time it is?”  Varric’s eyes catches something glitter on her hand.  “Holy shit!  Sparkler!  Tiny!  Get out here!”

She groans, “Can’t we discuss this later.  We’re kind of busy.”  Cullen takes the key from her hand and shoves it in the lock.  He turns the key and shoves the door open.  He pulls the key from the lock and then pulls her into the room.  He slams the door and locks it.  He sets the key on a nearby table.  She shoves him into the door and kisses him.  He makes a mental note that he spent the vast majority of his savings on their date and her ring, which means he can’t afford to destroy their rental clothes.  They told him they were keeping his armor as collateral.

Her hands tugs at his buttons and he moves her away.  “Just so you know these are rentals.”

“Ok.”  She slows down and takes a deep breath.  She carefully unbuttons his jacket before slowly pushing it off his shoulders.  This speed change has ramped up the heat.  She lays it neatly on the couch.  While her back is turned to him, he moves behind her the brush his lips on her neck while he unbuttons the back of her dress, just as slowly as she did.  She skin tingles and warmth spreads through her.  He pulls the dress down her body and she steps out of it.  She pulls the pin for her hair and shakes it out.  He lays it over the back of the couch.  She unhooks her corset in the front, knowing he probably doesn’t know how to remove it, and sets it next to her dress.  His polished black boots are off by the time she turns around.  She shoves him against the door again and kisses him as she removes his belt and pants.  He steps out of them and she turns, folding them neatly, and placing them next to his jacket.  He pulls off his socks and lays them next to the boots.  She pulls off his undershirt, which is clearly something he provided to the outfit and tosses it over her head.  He brushes his lips all the way down her body then removes each of her heels.  After setting them next to the boots, she grabs a fist full of his hair and makes him stand up.  Her lips crash into his.  His gloved hands press into her back.  He grunts in frustration and pulls the gloves off and tosses them with the rest of their finery.

She runs her hand down the front of his smalls and traces his outline.  He moans and moves with her through the door that leads to the private bedroom.  He kicks the door closed behind him.  He runs his hands down her back and into her smalls.  He squeezes her ass and she chuckles.  He pushes her smalls down and she kicks them off.  She wraps her hand around his erection and strokes him.  He pushes his smalls down and kicks them off.  All the while, their faces are practically glued together.

They crash down on the bed as it makes her knees buckle from running into it.  They both laugh for a moment before they return to their kissing.  His hands caress her are skin, tracing every scar as he gets to them.  He kisses down her neck and her fingers weave into his hair.  He pays tribute to her breasts.  Caressing them with his hands, his lips, and his tongue.  Her moans are loud and frequent.  She hears knocking on the door to the sitting room, but ignores it.  Nothing will take this moment away from her.

She wraps her legs around his waist.  He slides himself into her wet, soft folds and she cries out in pleasure.  His love making is slow but full of fire.  Spasms rock her body and she tightens around him.  He moans as well, making his pleasure known to her.  They grind against each other, moaning as their intensity and speed increase. 

She pulls his face to hers.  Inhaling the scent of his sweat and the taste of his lips.  He is hers and she is his.  There is no question now.  One day, and she has no idea when, she will be his wife.  The thought in combination with his thrusts sends a wave of pleasure through her.  “Oh Cullen!”  His thrusts have become urgent.  Fast, deep, and hard.  Skin slaps against skin as she clings to him.  Their moans and grunting constant in the heat of this moment.

He feels his body start to tense.  The subject of children enters his mind and remembers she isn’t’ ready.  He pulls out at the very last second.  His body curls around her, his breath catches in his throat, a slow grumbled moan slowly escapes from him.  He hovers above her kissing her lips before rolling onto his back.  He pulls the covers back.  Before he can even get settled, she is laying on his chest, playing with his chest hair and watching her new ring glitter in the candle light.  He pulls the covers over them.  He lays there running his fingers through her hair and watching her smile at the ring.

“You seem very happy.”

She sighs, “I am.  Why wouldn’t I be?  This is the happiest I’ve ever been.  This is forever.  I can’t imagine anything that would ruin my mood.”

He smirks, “The famous last words of a woman that always finds trouble.”

“Hey.  I don’t find it.  It finds me.”  He yawns and pulls her closer.  “I take it you’re tired.”

He chuckles, “What gave me away?”

She reaches up and ruffles his hair.  “I suppose we should get some sleep.  Yet I’m not feeling very sleepy.”

“Did I not wear you out enough?  Because I can fix that?”

“You want to go again?”

He shakes his head and laughs, “No.  But there are… other ways.”  He rolls with her in his arms.  He kisses down her body.  His head disappears below the blankets.  He kisses her naval and she yawns.  He pops his head up and peers up at her from the blanketed darkness.  “Did you just yawn?”

“Nope.  I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He smirks, “Just because you’re my fiancé now, that doesn’t give you a free pass to lie to me.”

She hums at the word fiancé.  She cups his face and makes him crawl back up her.  She kisses him long and deep.  “Alright.  Yes, I yawned.  But that’s doesn’t mean I’m…”  She yawns again, “tired.”

“Believe me, I don’t want to sleep any more than you do, but we both have a lot to do tomorrow.  Plus, if we wake up early enough then maybe we can…”

She kisses him.  “Good night then.”  She shoves him off her and she rolls onto her side.  He laughs as she snuggles down into the covers.  She holds her hand up in front of her face looking at the ring.  He takes her hand and pulls her to him.  He lays on his back and she takes her customary spot on his chest.  She watches the ring glitter in the dim lighting as she twirls his chest hair.  She falls asleep looking at it.  He kisses the top of her head and gives in to what he hopes is a blissful night’s sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now wasn't that nice? 
> 
> Also, I have errands and class this weekend. Boo! Hiss! So, the posting schedule will be off over the weekend. Just bare with me. I will post when I can!
> 
> UPDATED July 25, 2018


	58. Friend Like Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me three days to write this chapter and I just finished it! So, I apologize for errors. I wanted you give to have something to hold you over through the weekend while school ruins my life lol.
> 
> *** time/pov shirt

_Sweetheart,_

_I’m sorry we had to skip our celebratory morning.  New developments in Southern Orlais took me away from you before the sun had even started rising.  I did you a favor before I left.  First, you’ll find your armor on the couch since I returned the rental clothes.  Madame Durand was so happy that I said yes.  Second, I have left a couple of things in your pocket.  One is my halla necklace, I hate taking it out in the field as you know, and forgot to take it off in Skyhold.  The other is a little gift for you.  Let me know what you think about it._

_You’ll be pleased to know that the ring fits under my glove and doesn’t interfere with my grip.  I’m not sure if you planned that, but it seems like something you would do.  As happy as I am to be your FIANCE, I would like to keep it quiet for now, until we can make the announcement together.  Josie will want to throw a huge party I’m sure._

_I’ve decided, work wise, that as soon as I find enough about Samson to get him, then I’m coming back right away.  I don’t want to be apart from you any longer than absolutely necessary. Let me know how it goes with Rainer._

_Shea_

_***_

_Love,_

_I waited until I got back to Skyhold to open your gift.  I was testing my self-control.  Figured if I could resist opening it, then I could resist… other things.  It’s getting harder to mention it by name, which is a really good sign.  The song is loud, but I can almost ignore it when it look at the locket you gave me.  I don’t know how you found time to get someone to do a portrait of you, but I am so incredibly happy you did.  I may have done some… inappropriate things looking at it as well, but I’m sure you understand._

_I had to tell one person about our engagement.  I’m just too damn excited about it.  But I know he can keep a secret from anyone since he was lying to us for months.  Rainer… who still prefers to be called Blackwall to avoid confusion and shame… is happy for us.  Though I find it hard to really care about that._

_He is in our largest cell by himself.  But as per your request, he has a desk with chair and a real bed.  We will keep him fed and comfortable until you can return to pass judgement.  I feel like I should also remind you that he’s not alone and there are others waiting for judgement._

_Be safe in your hunt for Samson.  I wish more than anything to be hunting him with you._

_I love you!_

_Cullen_

_***_

_Sweetheart,_

_First, I want to apologize for taking so long to respond.  But I have great news.  We’ve got him.  The evidence shows that he is working on some kind of armor.  We’re headed back to Skyhold to discuss our next steps._

_Please don’t freak out, but we killed three dragons in Emprise du Lion and I may have a new scar.  I’ll leave it to you find out where.  I’m not upset about it.  We fought and killed three dragons and all I got was… Dorian is of course trying to heal it like it was never there, but I’m not too worried about it._

_I’ll see you soon.  And start thinking about this whole announcement thing._

_Shea_

_***_

His sits in his office reading her letter.  He just received it and is beyond excited that she’s headed back.  Someone knocks on his office door, which he finds unusual since everyone just sort of walks in.  “Come in!”

A red headed elf he’s never seen before sticks her head in the door.  “Commander Rutherford?”

He pushes back from his desk and stands.  “You’ve found him.”

She pushes the door open all the way.  She is clearly Dalish as are the ten men and women standing behind her.  “One of your men said we should report to you first.  Though I expected to meet with your Ambassador when we got here.  Seems like a little miscommunication to me, but who’s judging.”  He knows exactly who this is now.  Dalish, red hair, emerald green eyes.  This has to be Moira.  He is suddenly very nervous.  Shea’s best friend has finally made it to Skyhold.

He steps around the desk trying to swallow his nerves.  He extends his hand, “Well, let me remedy that.  You know my name and if I’m not mistaken, we’ve written letters to each other.  Moira Lavellan, correct?”

She takes his hand a firmly shakes it.  “Correct.  I must say.  Sh… The Inquisitor’s description of you was a bit… lacking.”

“Her description of you was spot on.  Except you didn’t have your vallaslin.  And I apologize if said that incorrectly.  Shea’s been trying to teach me, but I am not a quick study.”

She smiles and releases his hand.  “I haven’t told her I’ve actually received it yet.  And you said it just fine.”  One of the hunters behind her chuckles and she shoots him a hateful look.  He clears his throat and stands a little straighter.  “So, this is the Inquisition?”

“Well, this is just my office.  You haven’t seen anything yet.  I’m sure Josephine has already made arrangements for you all, but I’ll go ahead and give you the tour before she bombards you with questions and chatter.”

“An excellent idea, Commander.”

He smirks is signature grin at her, “Call me Cullen, when we’re not in mixed company.  Any friend of Shea’s is a friend of mine.”

“Alright.  Do my guys count as mixed company?”

“I’ll leave that up to you.  Shea and I use formal titles around my men, but it’s really up to you.”  He motions her to follow him through the side door.  He proceeds to give her the full tour of Skyhold.  He doesn’t go in the mage tower as it is against his orders, but he does show it to her.  He takes her to the undercity and the rotunda, then into the throne room.  Where Josephine is watching.

“Ambassador Lavellan!  I want to apologize to you the mix up earlier.   I assure you it won’t happen again.”

Moira bows slightly to Josephine.  “It’s no trouble.  The Commander here has already given me an excellent tour of the grounds.”

“He knows Skyhold almost as well as the Inquisitor.  I hope he shared some short cuts with you.”

“I’m sure he did, but it’s a lot to take in all at once.”

“Indeed!  I have a few options I’d like to discuss with you about where and your people will be staying.  If you’d come with me.”

Cullen steps forward.  “Lady Montilyet.  I was wondering if these hunters might like to get some rest and maybe some food.  Unless Ambassador Lavellan would prefer they stay with her?”

She looks at your men and back at Cullen.  “That would be perfect.  Thank you, Commander.”  She smirks at her people, “Don’t get too drunk in the tavern, we still have to move our stuff up from the valley.”

“We will take care of everything, don’t you worry.”  Josephine leads Moira away, chattering at her.

Cullen shakes his head and motions for the hunters to follow him.  They are a little hesitant to leave Moira on her own, but if she trusted this shem, then they could too.  Soldiers in the courtyard stop to salute him as he passes.  Which makes them all feel better about walking with him.  He opens the door to the tavern.  They all walk inside and he motions for them to sit at the large table.  Once they’ve all taken a seat, he leans forward on his palms.  “So, what’ll it be?”

The chuckling elf responds, “Are you taking requests?”

“You are all welcome guests here.  So, the first round is on me.  If I could make a suggestion?”  The elf nods, “If you want ale, don’t get the house brew, it’s mostly water.  Stick to Fereldan or Marcher.”

“You have Marcher ale here?”

“The Inquisitor is a Marcher.  She refuses to drink any other ale.  But she will sometimes drink Fereldan Ale.”

“What about food?”

“I’m not too sure what the kitchen has made for lunch today, but I’m hoping for stew of some kind and possibly fresh beard.  I can send someone to check, if you all are hungry.”

Just based on first impressions, these Dalish are way different than any other Dalish he’s ever met.  They are friendly with a touch of sarcasm.  The chuckling elf, Nelvin, actually invites Cullen to dine with them, which he gladly accepts.  Moira joins them after a while and sits down right next to him.

“I can’t help but notice that you seem to have been accepted by my people.”

“So it would seem.”

“That says a lot about your character.  This group has had a hard time trusting shems with power after that whole Wycome thing.”

“I’ve never harbored ill will towards any elf.  City or Dalish.  I actually have quite a few among my troops.  And the mages brought some with them as well.”

“Were you a noble before all this?”

He laughs, “No, just a commoner from a small village in Ferelden, at least before I become a templar.”

“Are you still a templar?”

“No.  I gave up that life when I joined the Inquisition.”

“I can’t help but notice the Inquisitor isn’t here.”

“She’s on her way from Orlais.  She’s a very hands-on leader.  She has to be, because of the mark.”

“When do you expect her back?  I’m dying to see her.”

He thinks about how long it would take for her letter to get to him and how long it would take her to travel.  “If I had to estimate it, I’d say in the next couple of days.  Maybe sooner if she decides to ride through the night.”

“Is she in a hurry to get back?”

“Probably.  She has some information that she is eager to move on.”

“And that doesn’t have anything to do with you?”

He rubs his neck.  “I’m sure that might also be a part of it… that is… at least I hope it is.”

She laughs, “So things are going well then?”

He smirks, “Extremely well.”

“Good, because if you hurt her I’ll kill you myself.”

“Noted.”  He finishes his drink and stands.  “It was a pleasure talking with all of you, but I unfortunately have work to do.”  He bows to them all and leaves the tavern.

***

When Shea rides into Skyhold, she nearly jumps from her horse.  Both Cullen and Moira are waiting for her in the courtyard.  She manages to control herself enough to at least wait for the horse to stop and for someone to take the reins.  But who does she hug first?  Cullen smirks and nods his head towards Moira reading her mind.  With all the eyes around, she manages not to run flat out towards her friend.  They hug each other tightly and instantly start talking to each other in elven.  Moira notices the scar on her face right away.

“What happened?!”

“It’s a long story.  I have more than just this one.  I love your vallaslin!  Which one did you pick?”

“Mythal.”

“It’s beautiful!”

They continue talking in elven while Cullen watches.  He just stands there patiently waiting for his fiancé to greet him.  Jim comes over to deliver a report and Cullen finds himself grateful for the distraction for once.  “What are these reports about?”

“Some of them are requests, ser.  Lots of sparring requests since you instructed that sparring matches be done with permission.  We were also hoping for a tournament, not anytime soon mind, but after we return from the Arbor Wilds.  To celebrate the Inquisitor’s victory.”

“We don’t know what to expect and yet you seem confident.”

“We all are, ser.”

“Talk to Lysette.  Tell her I’m approving the tournament with restrictions.  Have her draw it up and then report back to me.”

“We thought it might be interesting to have several different bouts like they do at the Grand Tourney in the Free Marches.  Make it a big thing.”

“Is this really a group thing?  Or are these your ideas, Jim?”

The scout scratches the back of his hand.  “I was the first to suggest it, ser.  But everyone I’ve talked up wants to contribute.”

Cullen feels a tap on his shoulder.  “Well, work out the details and get back to me.  I think this could be a fine idea.”  Jim salutes him and scampers off to good spread the news.  Cullen turns and Shea is standing in front of him.  The courtyard is mostly clear.  Moira is also gone.  “All caught up?”

She laughs, “Not by a long shot.  She wants to have dinner with us tonight.  Unless you have other plans for me?”

He smirks, “I’m sure we can pencil her in.  Now, come here.”  He pulls her into a hug and she wraps her arms around his neck.  “I’ve missed you.”

“You always do.”  He kisses her neck and they part.

“Care to get business out of the way?”

She laces the fingers on her left hand with his.  “Absolutely.  First, I need to run something to Vivienne.  She sent me a personal and time sensitive request while we were out.  So, I’ll just finish this up real quick, and then I’ll meet you in your office.  You should probably get Dagna to join us.  She might be able to make more sense out of some of this information.”

“We’ll be waiting.”

“Excellent!”  They walk together up the stairs.  He can feel the ring under her glove and it makes him smile.  He rubs his thumb against it and she smiles.  “Have you said anything to anyone besides Blackwall?”

“Not yet.  I was waiting on you.”

She looks over at him, “We can discuss this more later, but I was kind of thinking of keeping it secret for a while.  Not that I’m not happy to be your,” she whispers, “Fiancé.” She returns her voice a normal volume, “I just like the idea of having this all to myself, before Josephine sinks her teeth in and drives us crazy planning some sort of party.”

“Hmm… this seems sort of old school.  But Jim said the men want to do an Inquisition version of the Grand Tourney.  We could announce it them.  Then she wouldn’t have to plan anything, because we already have.”

“Oh, dear future husband.  I like the way your mind works.”  They stop between two doors.  One leads to the undercroft while the other leads to a staircase that goes up on the balcony Vivienne hangs out on.  Shea waves at Josephine as she stands by her office.  She clearly needs to talk to her.  Shea pulls the Samson related reports from her pocket.  “I have a feeling I might be a little late for our meeting.  You and Dagna get started and I’ll head your way once I’m done with the Iron Lady and our Lady Ambassador.”

“Of course.  I’ll be waiting, with Dagna, in my office.”  They kiss briefly and go their separate ways.

***

Cullen and Dagna are standing in his office, busily studying the papers Shea gave them.  “It sounds like he’s building some sort of armor.”

Dagna nods, “It sounds like the armor itself is made of red lyrium.  He must really need the additional lyrium for something.”  She sees him flinch every time she’s say the word lyrium, “Oops!  Sorry!  I forgot!  It’s made of the red stuff and he must need the extra power for something.  Hey!  Have I mentioned that you are super different from when we worked together at the Circle?  If not, I feel like I should mention it.  It’s a good different.  You are way less angry now!”

“Thank you?  Even with everything going on I still remembered your eagerness and potential.  It’s why I recommended you.”

“Oh!  That was you!  Well, thanks!  This has been really great!”

“I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been taking time away from the undercroft.”

Dagna smiles brightly.  “You noticed?  I always thought you were too in your own world to notice something like that.  No offense!”

He smirks, “None taken.  I notice a lot more than people realize.  Sister Nightingale isn’t the only ones with eyes around here.”

“I bet!  Anyway, based on this information, I think I can figure out where he is having this armor made.”

“Excellent!”  He searches through the rolled up papers on his desk before finding the one he wants.  He rolls it out flat on his desk and puts a weight on each corner to hold it down.  He points to a spot on the worn map.  “The Inquisitor found the first reports here in the Emerald Graves.”  He places a marker on it.  “They led her to a red… quarry in Sarnia.  Here.”  He places another marker.

“Looks like he’s travelling north.  Based on this letter here.”  She hands him the letter.  “The shipments are going this way.”  She traces her finger along the map.

Shea looks over Dagna’s head.  “You know there are a lot of old Tevinter ruins in those parts.”

Cullen smiles at her.  “Inquisitor, glad you could join us.”

“Sorry I’m late.  I’ve had to add a few things to my to do list, which we can discuss later.”

Dagna looks up at her.  “Didn’t someone say that the Old Magisters were servants of Dumat?”

Shea nods, “We also found quite a few references to Dumat in the Fade at Adamant.”  Shea walks over to Cullen’s bookshelf.  She skims the titles before pulling one from it.  She sets the book on the table.  “I had all information I’ve recovered on my travels bound and copied for the advisors.  This particular volume is everything I’ve learned about anything even remotely related to Corypheus and his people.”

“When did you find time to do that?”

She chuckles, “Delegation, my dear.”  Dagna grabs the volume and starts flipping through the pages.

“Ah ha!  Found it!”  She points to a spot of the map.  “According to this, there were two Temples dedicated to Dumat during Corypheus’s time.  One near Kirkwall, which is the one the Gray Wardens were holding Corypheus before Hawke came along.  The other is somewhere around this area in northern Orlais.  I’m sure if you went to this spot on the map you wouldn’t be able to miss it.”

“Then that’s where we need to go.”

Cullen nods, “Inquisitor.  I would like to join you on this mission.  I have a personal connection to Samson as you know.  I want to be there.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Dagna gathers up the reports Shea found.  “While you do that, I’m going to study these to see if can figure anything else out about this armor.  Maybe you can find something at this Shrine or Temple or whatever it is.”  She excitedly leaves the room, happy she has an exciting new project.

Shea turns to close the door behind Dagna.  She turns back to face him and he surprises her by being right behind her.  He presses her against the wall as he kisses her.  She hums and runs her gloved fingers into his hair.  They break apart and he rests his forehead on hers.  “You’re very clever you know?”

“Am I?  I mean… I am, but how this time?”

She chuckles.  “You found a way to travel with me.”

“That I did.  Though I would have suggested it regardless of our relationship.”

“So, being together for an extended trip is just an added bonus?”

“Work and no breaks from each other.  I can’t wait.”

She ducks under his arm and goes over to the map.  He stands behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.  His rest his chin on her shoulder.  “First, I’m meeting Leliana in Valence.  Justinia sent her a post mortem letter and she wanted me to go with her.  So for the first leg, you, Leliana, Bull, Dorian, Varric, and I will be going to Valence, but only Leliana and I will be going inside the Chantry there.  Leliana will return to Skyhold alone, her idea not mine, and then we need to meet Josie in Val Royeaux to find out why someone killed her messengers and destroyed her letters.  Then we’ll go find this Shrine.”

He places his hand over hers to move her finger along the map.  “My suggestion would be to travel from Skyhold to Jadar.  Securing a ship across to Valence.  Then taking Leliana back to Jadar and have people meet her there.  I know she can handle herself, but this is for my own piece of mind.  Then from Jadar, we can sail to Val Royeaux.  Though I hate sea travel, it is faster.  Did Josie say how’s she getting to Val Royeaux?”

She really likes working like this.  His arms around her.  His chin resting on her shoulder as he moves her fingers across the map.  His breath tickling her neck as he talks.  She smiles, “No, she didn’t.  I suppose you have a suggestion?”

“She should travel with our people to Jadar when we drop off Leliana then come with us.  We don’t know what she’s gotten herself into and I would hate for something to happen to her.  I’m sure she’s a capable woman, but she sticks out like a sore thumb when she goes anywhere.”

“Neither of them are going to like this.”

“Tough.

“Too bad we can’t work like this in the war room.”

He laughs.  “That would be far too distracting.”

“I don’t know.  We’re doing a pretty good job so far.  Getting back on topic, maybe we should get Vivienne to come along with Josephine too.  She has some business north of Val Royeaux that she wanted to keep between us, but if we’re headed up there anyway, I’m sure she’d appreciate the rush.”

“Something wrong there?”

“I think it has something to do with Duke Bastien.  She’s his mistress but I’m fairly certain she’s in love with him.  They’ve been together a very long time.  She appealed to my romantic side in a letter and I had to help.”  She laughs, “She may have used you against me.”

“Well, I’d say that having someone from the inner circle use our connection is better than some outsider.”

“Agreed.  Should we worry about that?”

“I don’t think so.  We haven’t given anyone a reason to.”

“Have we heard anything from Ostwick lately?”

He turns her around.  “Not that I’m aware of. I know Moira passed through on her way down here, but she said everything seemed fine.  He is happy to have more Inquisition soldiers protecting him again.”

“Ugh.  I hate this.  It’s so damn complicated.”

“How so?”

“Well, I should hate him.  But I can’t bring myself to fully hate him since Halamshiral.  Especially knowing that if he dies, I become Bann of Ostwick.  I really don’t want that.  _And_ it doesn’t look like he’ll be having heirs anytime soon.”

He nods.  “Especially if Cassandra gets elected to be the next Divine.”

She groans and rests her forehead on his chest.  “I forgot about that.  I’m supposed to let the Grand Clerics know who I would support as Divine.  And I have no idea.”

“We’ve got time.  Don’t worry about that right now.”

She sighs.  “I need to get back to the throne room.  I have apparently been neglecting my judge and jury responsibilities.”

“Need me to come with you?”

“Only if you want to watch.  The only one I’m personal invested in is Blackwall.  I hear he’s angry.”

“From what I’ve heard, since I can’t bring myself to visit his cell, is that he thinks we’re corrupt.  That we should have left him there to die.”

“Great.  A pubic scolding from him won’t be pleasant.”

“You can handle it.”

“Let’s hope so.”

He kisses her.  “I should get everything ready for our trip.  I want to leave as soon as possible.  He already has a head start on us and I want to try to beat him while our information is still good.”

“Then I’ll see you at dinner.  We’re eating in my quarters.  Should you finish before me, go ahead at head up there.  I’d like this to be informal.”

“Then I’ll change out of my armor when I get there.”

She kisses him and heads towards his door.  “Until then, sweetheart.”  They smile at each other and she leaves his office.

***

Cullen is standing alone in her room.  He has moved her desk chair over by the couch so they can all eat together.  He isn’t sure where he should sit.  Should he give Moira and Shea the couch?  Or should he sit with Shea?  This is supposed to be informal.  Just dinner among friends.  The door opens and he hears footsteps on the stairs.  It's one of the kitchen staff, a girl he believes is named Sophie.  She is trying to balance several trays.  “Let me help you.”

“Thank you, ser.  I actually had to leave some of it downstairs to open the door.”

He takes a few trays from her and sets them on the table in front of the couch.  She sets the remaining tray down and scurries back downstairs to get the rest.  She returns with a bottle of wine, glasses, and two more trays.  “You got all of this from the kitchen by yourself?”

“Yes, ser.”  He helps her set the addition items down.  “Thank you again, ser.  Should I lock the door on my way out?”

He shakes his head, “No.  Thank you for offering, Sophie.”  She smiles brightly.  “It is Sophie, right?”

“Yes, ser.”

“Good.  That’s what I thought.  Have you seen the Inquisitor today?”

She nods, “Yes, ser.  I saw her headed this way when I left the kitchen.  I passed the Dalish Ambassador on my way up here.  I think she’s waiting for her.”

“Alright.  I can set all this up Sophie, but if you see the Inquisitor, please let her know I’m waiting.”

She dips her head, “Yes, ser.”  She scurries happily down the stairs.

Cullen peeks under the lid of a tray.  He sets it in the center of the table with the lid off.  It has bread, cheese, and various fruits on it.  The appetizer.  He sticks a slice of apple in his mouth before looking under the next lid.  A dessert of some kind.  He keeps the lid on and sets it on Shea’s desk.  The other three must be the main course.  He sets them in front of each seat.  He peeks under the lid of each them, curiousity getting the better of him.  He smiles.  Each is different.  He knows which one is for him and he moves it to in front of the couch.  The streaming bread under another lets him know it is Shea’s and he sets it next to his.  The other must be Moira’s and he sets it in front of the chair.

He picks up the wine and reads the label.  Not knowing much about wine, he pulls the cork.  He remembers Dorian and Josephine say that wine is better if it is left to breathe.  He sticks his hand in his pocket.  He feels her necklace and pulls it out.  He opens the wardrobe and puts it in the spot she always puts it in.  He assumes she’ll want to change when she gets up there, but he doesn’t know what she’d want to wear.  He flips through her clothes.  _This is informal, so she’d want to be Shea and not the Inquisitor._ Her armor isn’t on the rank, which she’s still wearing it.  He wonders if he knows her well enough to at least attempt to pull something for her.

He shrugs and decides to try.  He pulls out her white off the shoulder blouse, a blue and silver corset, and a black skirt.  He lays them out on the bed.  _Will she want shoes?_   He pulls out black leggings and black heeled boots.  He sets them next to the clothes on the bed.  As he looks at the outfit he’s assembled, he isn’t sure if he’s over stepping his bounds or if she’ll want to wear something else.  He doesn’t have time to change his mind though.  Shea comes bounding up the stairs.

“Did… you pick out clothes for me?”

He blushes and rubs his neck.  “I… yes… but if you don’t…”

She starts removing her armor while looking at what he has picked out.  “You’ve done a fine job.  There’s only one thing I would change.”  She picks up the boots and leggings and puts them back in the wardrobe.  “That’s it.”  She chuckles.  “It almost like you can read my mind, because this is exactly what I was going to wear.”  She kisses him briefly.

He helps her quickly remove her armor.  She removes her breast band and starts putting the outfit on.  “Did you bring the necklace with you?”

“I just put it in its usual place.”  He grabs it out of the wardrobe and puts it on her.  She leaves her hair in the ponytail, because she thinks it need to be washed before she can wear it down again.  She has him tighten the strings on the corset.

“Do you think it’ll be like this all the time?”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you’ll be here to help me lace a corset or get out of it later.  We’ll pick out clothes for each other.  That kind of thing.”

He chuckles, “It could be.  Though you definitely have more clothes than me.”

She turns to face him.  “Maybe you should move in here.”

“Really?”

She touches his face, “When is the last time you slept in that drafty tower?”

“Every time you are gone.”

“You know what I mean.”

“That one time we fought was the only time I slept there while you were here.”

“See!  You might as well live here too!”

He smirks, “Are you sure you want all my stuff here?  Making your nice clothes smell like a boy?”

She hugs him.  “I love your smell.  So, it wouldn’t bother me.  Of course, we could always just get a separate wardrobe for your clothes if you didn’t want yours to smell like me.”

“Can I think about it?”

“What’s there to think about?”

“Aren’t we still being secretive?”

She nods.  “Oh ok.  That actually makes sense.  Maybe we should wait until we’ve announced it?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The bell rings.  She kisses him and the motions for him to sit.  She rushes to the door and flings it open.  “Come on in!”

The two woman come up the stairs.  Cullen is suddenly nervous about this whole dinner thing.  Though he has spoken to Moira a few times since she’s been here, being in the same room with them made him feel like a third wheel.  He notices Shea is keeping her left hand hidden.  Shea motions for Moira to sit in the chair and Shea takes her spot next to Cullen.  She smirks at him and rubs his back.  She’s telling him to relax.

“So, Moira!  How are your people settling in?”

The elf laughs as she picks up a hunk of bread for the tray.  “We’ve been settled in for a while now, Shea.  Your Commander has been quite welcoming.”

Shea laces her fingers with his and smiles over at him, “I don’t doubt it.”

“The hunters and my men have been sparring a bit.  Showing off those techniques you taught them.  They are very proud to have learned something from the Inquisitor.”

“My hunters are impressed by the speed of your warriors, Commander.”

He shoots her his signature grin, “Cullen, please.”

“Right.  I forgot you said to do that.  I’ve only ever been around you when you’re working…”

Shea laughs, “He is always working.”

He shrugs, “Not always, just most of the time.”

“Yes, sweetheart, I know.  You have a thousand things to do.”

He blushes as she says her pet name for him.  She’s never said it in front of anyone, that he knew of, until now.  Moira chuckles, “We weren’t joking about how adorable he is when he blushes.”  Shea smiles to herself as he rubs his neck.  She reaches forward with her left hand to grab a grape from the tray.  Her ring glitters in the setting sunlight.  Moira snatches her hand up to examine the ring.  “Is this?”

Cullen leans over and kisses her bare shoulder as a blush rises in her cheeks.  “So much for not telling anyone.”

Shea chuckles, “Well, I was sort of going to tell you a little later, but surprise!”

“So, this is real?  You two are getting married?”

They nod.  Cullen nuzzles her neck and she tries to bat him away.  “You don’t seem happy about that, Moira.”

“Shea.  Of course, I’m happy.  But uh… have you talked to your brother?”

Shea rolls her eyes and groans, “Not you too.  This is my choice.  Cullen asked.  I said yes.  End of story.”

Cullen squeezes her hand.  “Come on, love.  I’m sure he’ll be happy for us.  Sure, I’m not some noble, but it’s not like you are royalty.  A noble, sure.  But I have heard of nobles marrying commoners before.”

“He’s right, ma falon.  If you’re happy, then to hell with him.  I say, good for you.  It’s about time something went right in your life.”

Cullen pours three glasses of wine.  He hands one to Moira, then one to Shea.  He raises his in the air.  “To being happy and not giving a damn what anyone has to say about it.”

Moira clinks her glass against his, “Here, here.”  They both look at Shea.  She hadn’t even considered what he brother might say about her choosing to marry a commoner from Ferelden.  She didn’t even know how he felt about Cullen in general.  Then it clicks.  She never cared, so why is she suddenly freaking out now?  She clinks her glass with theirs and they drink.  They eat their meals while they talk.

“So, why haven’t you told anyone?  I feel like this is big news.”

“We decided to wait until we could get some time to enjoy it on our own.  And we’re kind of planning on announcing it in a big way.  We have a lot going on work wise, and we didn’t want to distract anyone.”

He smirks, “And it’s kind of fun to keep it secret.”

Moira shakes her head.  “If I were you, I’d be screaming it for the roof tops.  Again who cares about anyone else?”

“Well, we’re kind of running this prank on the other advisors.  We want it to play out before we make the announcement.”

He brushes his nose against her shoulder.  It feels nice to be touchy and unabashedly in love without having to hide anything.  “When are you planning on doing this scene with Dorian?”

“Maybe tomorrow.  Before we head out with Leliana.  I talked to both of them earlier, and they are both on board with our travel plans.  So is Vivienne for that matter.”

Moira laughs, “Do you two ever not talk about work?”

Cullen chuckles, “Not really.  I have no idea what we’ll talk about when this is all over.”

“Well, since we’re on the subject of travel.  I hear that this ancient magister asshole is hunting for elven ruins.  I would love to come along.  Solas would to.”

“We haven’t gotten that far in the planning… how do you know Solas wants to go?”

It’s Moira’s turn to blush.  “I’ve been talking to him about magic and the Fade.  I wanted another perspective.  What’s his deal anyway?  He seems to love elven lore but hate other elves.  Particularly Dalish.”

Shea shakes her head.  “How did I know you would latch onto the first elven mage you came across?”

“Hey.  I’ll have you know he came to me.  Apparently that spirit guy… Cole… told him to come talk to me.  No idea why.  Especially when the very first thing we did was start arguing about aspects of the Fade.  I mean… he thinks he’s so smart.  That he’s an expert.  Well, he’s not.  He doesn’t know everything there is to know about magic, or the Fade, or elven lore.  If he would let me talk, I could teach _him_ a thing or two.”  Cullen and Shea exchange a knowing look and chuckle as Moira continues her rant.  “Like did you know he thinks there is only one Spirit of Wisdom?  And that she was his friend and now she’s dead, and forming into something else?  Well, he’s wrong.  I know for a fact there’s more than one, but he wouldn’t listen.  He even admitted to meeting a Spirit of Wisdom while at Skyhold, but he claimed it wasn’t a true Spirit of Wisdom because he was rude.  How is that an indicator that he isn’t one?  I mean he’s an _owl_ for crying out loud.  You should have seen the look on his face when me and that owl popped up while he was in the Fade.  Oh man did that owl have some _wisdom_ for him.”

Shea smiles, “When did you hit him?”

“Excuse me?”

“I received a complaint from him claiming you assaulted him.  What made you hit him?”

Moira scoffs, “It doesn’t count if it’s in the Fade.”

Cullen smirks, “Well, don’t keep us waiting.  This sounds like it should be an interesting story.”

Moira throws up her hands, “Listen.  He’s just so irritating!  That doesn’t mean I like him.”

Shea leans forward, “Come on, Moira.  Tell us the story.  I’m sure I’m going to hear it from him later so you might as well tell me your side.”

The elf stands and paces in front of the fire, “Alright fine.  So, I’m in the Fade.  From my talks with people around Skyhold, I learned that this place was originally the home of ancient elves.  I just couldn’t pass up the chance to learn more for my people.  I mean what if the Gods had actually been here.  So, I’m walking around, exploring everything I can, and I run into him, literally, in some ancient library.  He scolds me for sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong and I tell him I have more claim to this information than an elven apostate with no connection to our people.  He shoves a book at me and challenges me to read the ancient language.  And when I do, he tells me it’s a lucky guess and starts critiquing my syntax.  So I start critiquing him on his small mindedness when it comes to elves.  We are practically yelling at each other.  Then books start flying.  Apparently the spirits didn’t like us so being loud in a library.  So, we’re forced to run away.  All the while still arguing about some elven thing or another.  We get to this clearing and are just going at it.  Trading insults, trying to one up each other on how smart we are.  Then out of nowhere he kisses me.  And I kiss him back.  He pushes me off him, even though he started it.  Then I deck him and wake myself up.”

Shea is laughing.  “Classic Moira.”

Cullen chuckles, “Sound like classic Solas too.”

“I don’t find this funny.  It’s… infuriating!”

“You should talk to him.”  All of their heads snap to where Cole is leaning on the balcony.  “Sorry.  I should use the door.”  He disappears and comes up the stairs.  “Cunning, cruel, captivating.  You stick to him.  The thought of you tears, tugs, tires.  He wants to see you again.  He doesn’t think I know.  You make him want tea.”

Shea chuckles, “He hates tea.  He only drinks it when he’s concerned about something.  The horrible taste distracts him from what’s really bothering him.”

“I’m not making the first move!  He’s started it!”

“He still feels the punch, the hurt from the hit.  He is reminded of someone.  Stubborn, striking, smart.  He knows more than he says.  He knows things you want to know.”  He looks over at Shea and Cullen.  “Your thoughts are like one person.  Thinking the same.  Love, lust, longevity.  But I’m not supposed to know.  So I won’t say congratulations.”  He looks back at Moira, “You could have that too.”  Cullen smiles at Shea.  Sometimes Cole freaks him out, makes his skin crawl, but right now his words make him feel pure joy.  “You like me now.  You don’t know what I am and that scares you, but you think I am your friend.  You are my friend too!”

“Well, thank you… I think.”

Cole picks a grape up of the table and starts peeling the skin off.  “What are you doing, Cole?”

“Dorian likes them peeled, but no one does it for him.  So, I collect them and deliver them to him when he doesn’t know I’m there.  But I think he’s starting to remember me more.”

Shea shakes her head and smiles.  “Have you decided if you want us to find that amulet or not?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll have someone start looking tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to be demon.  You must…”

Shea puts up her hand, “I know.  And I promised you I would if it came to that.  But you have to let me help you.”

“Giving help is easy.  Receiving it is hard.”

“I know.  Say, why don’t you just take all the grapes with you?  And then hand them to Dorian yourself.  Practice being more here.  Let him remember.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You’ve said you want to be more here than not.  Maybe you should give it a try with more people than just me, Varric, and Solas.”

“Solas wants me to be less here.”  Moira puts her hand on his shoulder.  He’s not used to that kind of contact.  He looks wide eyed at her hand and then traces her arm up to her face.  “You have kind eyes.”

“Thank you.”

“Skin soft like the rain on the grass before the sun dries it away.  The smell of trees and sunlight stick to your hair that burns like fire.”

“Uh… ok.  Anyway.  Cole, what do you want?”

“What do I want?”

“Yes.  Do you want to be more spirit or more human?”

“I… don’t know.  I want to help.”

“There’s more than one way to help someone.  Like about Dorian.  How does he feel when he finds those peeled grapes in his room?”

“He wonders, worries, wishes to know who knew he wanted them.  They make him think of home.”

“Wouldn’t it help him to know that someone is actually thinking about his happiness?  Know that he’s not alone and someone cares for him enough to give him a gift?”

Cole stands and scoops up every grape in sight.  “You like to help.  Like I like to help.  Healing, helpful, happy.  You are like me.”

“In a way, yes.  But I’m just an elf.  A mage and an elf.  I’m not special like you.”

“You could be.”

The direction this conversation has turned up makes Cullen shift on the couch.  Cole is implying that Moira could bind herself to a spirit to be more like him.  It makes him feel uneasy.    Shea rubs his arm when she feels him tense up.  Moira smirks at Cole, “Maybe, but then you wouldn’t be the only one like you.  Wouldn’t be so special anymore.”

“You like me for me.  Not a spirit, or a demon, or a man.  But Cole.  You like Cole.”

“Yes.  You are your own being, and should live your life the way you want to live it.”

“I’m going to find more grapes.”  He runs down the stairs.

Moira sits back in her chair.  “Is he always like that?”

Shea chuckles, “He’s taken to you faster than I’ve seen him take to anyone.”

Cullen rubs his neck, “I’m not an expert on such matters, but I get the feeling he might like you more than Solas likes him.”

Shea laughs, “That would be a feat, wouldn’t it?  To be fair though, Solas is more fascinated by Cole than he actually likes him.  Varric on the other hand.  He sees what Cole could be.  What I think Cole wants to be.  He made himself human for a reason.”

Moira sighs.  “You have weird friends.”

“Friends who seem drawn to you.  I wonder why that this?”

“Hell if I know.  Anyway, what’s for dessert?”

The three of them eat, drink, and talk well into the night.  Nothing to substantial comes up.  And eventually Moira leaves for the night.  Her head is clouded with thoughts of Solas and Cole.  And what exactly it means that they are all she can think about.

Cullen and Shea are exhausted.  He doesn’t bother putting on something to sleep in.  While Shea takes a bath, he strips down to nothing and hangs his clothes in her wardrobe.  He thinks about their conversation earlier in the night.  Why doesn’t he just move into her quarters?  He may as well already live there.  He’s pretty sure half of his clothes are already here.  He climbs into the bed and waits for her to join him.  It really isn’t that big a step, especially when they spend every free moment together anyway and he sleeps almost exclusively in her room when she is there.  He nods to himself.  After they announce their engagement, he would do it.  Officially give up his drafty, wet tower.

She jumps on the bed next to him.  Her wet hair dropping water on his face.  She kisses him and then snuggles against him under the covers.  “Just when I think I’ve seen the happiest you can possibly be, you top it.”

“My two favorite people in all the whole world are in one place _and_ they get along!  Just when I’ve hit the happiness ceiling, I burst through it.  I’m sure this won’t last too long.  The world has a way of taking a shit on my joy when I least expect it.  I guarantee you that something will bring my mood crashing down sooner rather than later.”

He smiles and shakes his head, “And even that horrible statement sounds cheery.”

She weaves her legs with his and lays her head on his shoulder.  He turns his head to the side and presses his lips against her forehead.  Her eyes close and she runs her fingers through his hair.  “I miss your curls.”

“We had company.”

“I know.  But still.”

“Just get some sleep.  We’ve got a busy day of travel preparations and you might also have to defuse a fight between Moira and Solas tomorrow.”

“Oh!  Speaking of defusing things!  I should probably let you know that I’ve pardoned Blackwall.  He’s a free man.  Some people didn’t like it, but I feel like he’s not the same man who committed those crimes and he is constantly trying to better himself and others.  I can’t fault him for that.”

“It may take me some time, but if you feel that is the way to go, then I support it.”

“With all the troubles the Wardens are having, I just couldn’t send him to them after all this is done.  He deserves a second chance.”

“You have a kind heart.  Something I’ve always admired about you.”

“Kind and maybe a little naïve and super trusting.  There are lots of things I’ve done for the sake of kindness that could easily bite me in the ass.”

He hugs her tighter in his arms, “Get some rest, love.  No need to bother yourself with what ifs.  They’ll just ruin your mood.”

She tilts her head up to him and he kisses her.  “Good night, sweetheart.”

“Good night, wife-to-be.”  She smiles happily.  They both close their eyes and drift off to sleep at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! #59 is coming you as soon as it's written.
> 
> UPDATED July 25, 2018


	59. Let's Get It On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taking me so long to get chapters out! I'm writing as fast as my fingers will let me!
> 
> *** time/pov shift

Several things have changed for Shea during the first few legs of her trip with the advisors.  Leliana, though sad, is free and softer somehow.  Shea is finally brave enough after the trip to Valance to talk to her about her potential to be Divine.  Seeing how far the Chantry and the templars have fallen makes it all too apparent that things can’t go back to the way there were.  So, when Leliana suggests completely changing everything the Chantry once stood for, Shea finds that she agrees.  She still needs to talk to Cassandra, but she thinks she already knows how she’ll respond when the Grand Clerics ask her who she will support.

Shea also realizes that Josephine has more on her plate than almost anyone in the Inquisition and takes it all in stride.  Josie wants to handle this contract on her life the long and legal way.  But Shea is worried that the attempts on Josie’s life might prevent her from gained any ground.  When Leliana offers to send her people to destroy that contract on House Montilyet, Shea doesn’t hesitate.  She is sure Josephine will frown upon the decision, but Shea knows that the sooner this is handled to happier Josephine will be.

But most shocking of all, is that Shea’s hatred for Vivienne has completely evaporated.  No one is more surprised by this than she is.  Seeing how deeply the mage cared for a dying man, only wanting the heart and the potion made from it to have one last loving moment with the man she loves, melted away every ounce of her disdain.  Shea is a master at hiding her emotions now, but in this she can’t.  She watches the lovers’ final exchange with tears streaming down her face.  Her heart aches for the mage and she marvels at her strength in this moment of heartbreak.  Before joining with the rest of the group, Shea pulls Vivienne aside.

“I… feel like I should apologize.”

Vivienne scoffs, “Whatever for, my dear?”

“I never took the time to really get to know you.  I let our differences interfere.  We have more in common than I ever knew and… I… just know that if you ever need to talk about all this, know that you have a sympathetic ear waiting to listen.”

Vivienne quickly wipes the tear from her face before Shea can see it, “Thank you, my dear.  I will keep that in mind.”

After escorting Josie and Vivienne back to the ship, Shea and her boys ride off towards the Shrine of Dumat.  Shea doesn’t speak for a long while.  Seeing Vivienne and Bastien in his final moments makes her think about Cullen.  When age or some other form of death come to take one away from the other, will the one who remains have the strength to continue on as Vivienne has?  Able to say there is nothing left for them in that place?  The home she had with the man she loved?  She guesses it is lucky Vivienne never had children with her love, but Shea knows that Cullen wants them.  If she has a kid with him and then she dies, what would he do?  Inversely, if they have a child and he dies, what would she do?

Being firmly and finally secure in their relationship, she is afraid that if she loses it now, that she will be utterly undone.  His emotional, mental, and physical scars make him stronger, even though his withdrawal and addiction still plague him, she is certain that he can survive if there is another life to hold him to this world.  She feels a pang of shame and guilt as she thinks of a plan that would keep him here if she died, but time is just too short now.  If she had had this thought a few month earlier then maybe this idea would have worked.  But is saving his life in the event of her death a justified reason to have a child she really doesn’t want?

She glances over at him as he laughs with their friends.  He looks so happy right now.  So light.  There is still a tiredness to his eyes.  Which indicates he must be developing a headache.  She rides a little closer to him.  Her proximity makes him look over at her.  He can see her concern, he smirks slightly, she must know a headache is slowly building behind his eyes.  He reaches over and pats her leg.  She pulls a map from her pockets and studies the area around them.  It would be dark soon and she needs to find a place for them to camp.

She whispers to him, “How bad is it?”

He returns his attention to the front.  “Nothing I can’t handle for right now.”

She shakes her head.  It must be bad then and he’s masking it well.  She looks down at the map and studies it.  She picks out a place that looks suitable and it doesn’t look to be too far away.  She spurs her horse to catch up with Bull.  “Need something, Boss?”

“I’m going to scout ahead.”  She nods her head ever so slightly towards Cullen, “Watch him for me.”  He nods and she spurs her horse to run ahead at full speed.

Cullen rides up to Bull.  “What was that about?”

 “It’s nothing to worry about.  She does that every time she’s ready to make camp in a new place.”

“She leaves you and goes off on her own?”

Bull shrugs, “She’s never gone for long.  And if she gets in trouble in that time, she signals with the mark.”

“She willingly puts herself in danger and then hurts herself in the event of attack?  That seems reckless.”

Bull guffaws, “You want to stop her go right ahead.  It’s how we’ve done this for months now.”

“Months?”

“She the fastest and can take care of herself. Don’t worry about it.”

Cullen looks off in the direction she rode as the dust settles in her wake.  He always assumed they all stayed together at all times in the field.  Her reports always made it seem that way.  This is an eye opening experience, and it’s not over yet.

“So, Curly.”  Varric and Dorian catch up to join their conversation.  “Are you ever going to tell us about your night in Val Royeaux?  Because I’ve been coming up with some options and I want to be sure to tell the right story.”

Cullen chuckles, “You can spin a tale better than anyone I know.  The actual story will pale in comparison I’m sure.”

Dorian smirks at him which causes Cullen to roll his eyes.  Ever since Dorian helped Shea care for him and thus Dorian had finally seen him naked, his flirting efforts have doubled.  “Varric told us she has a ring on a particular finger.  Did you happen to place it there or some other lucky fellow?”

“If we were engaged, don’t you think someone would have confirmed that by now?  You know how fast word spreads.”

Dorian chuckles and twirls the end of his moustache, “What a brilliant deflection, Commander.  Neither a yes nor a no.”

“It isn’t a deflection, but it is the truth.”

“A veiled one.”

Cullen smirks.  “Be that as it may, it is still the truth.”

Varric shakes his head.  “I’ll never understand you two.”

Cullen chuckles, “Why is that?”

“I mean that girl would move mountains for you if she could.  We all see it.  She’s never been shy.  Naïve, inexperienced, and innocent sure, but never shy.  And the kid has grown up a lot in a short amount of time.”

Dorian nods, “She is probably the strongest _woman_ in all of Thedas and we should consider ourselves lucky that she is the one who ended up with that mark.”

Bull scoffs, “Strongest woman?  She’s stronger than any man or woman.  She takes to new skills like a fish to water.  That includes the Ben Hassrath training we’ve been doing on the side.  Though you didn’t hear that from me.”

Cullen’s head snaps in Bull’s direction.  “Ben Hassrath training?  What the hell do you mean Ben Hassrath training?”

Dorian chuckles, “I told you he’d be mad, Amatus.”

Bull shrugs, “You’ve had to notice.  She’s better at hiding her facial expressions.  I mean look at that Winter Palace crap.  She played every single person in the court, she played you and every man in our group.  She still needs some work, but if she ever converted to the qun, she’d have a job ready for her.  Well… if they didn’t leash her because of her mark.”

Cullen pinches the bridge of his nose.  A lot of things made sense now.  His difficulty reading her emotions is the main one.  She used to be an open book to him, but now she could choose whether or not she would allow him to read her.  He blames himself for driving her to it, though that might be thinking too highly of himself.  A thought suddenly occurs to him, “With everything her family has done, the training she has already gone through, why would she want to do that?”

Bull shrugs.  “Would you rather her take lyrium to activate it or would you prefer her to learn this on her own terms?  Why does it even matter?  It’s not like she’s… oh she _is_ using it on you.”

“I need to talk to her about that.”

“She might not even realize she’s doing it automatically now.”

Varric waves his hand in the air, “This is exactly what I mean.  You two spend every moment you can together, I’m willing to put every coin if have up for grabs that you two are already engaged, and there are things you are hiding from each other.”

“I’m not hiding anything from her.  I’ve told her everything about me and my past.  I’ve told her about my future goals.  There isn’t anything she doesn’t know about me.  I’m just now realizing that that might not be mutual.”

Bull groans, “Hey, I didn’t mean to start something!  But you’re going to learn a lot about the Boss travelling with her.  She’s…”

Dorian finishes the sentence, “Almost like a different person.  Honestly, I think I see Varric’s point.  It’s not about what you don’t know about each other.  It’s more like we don’t understand why you are choosing to cut yourselves off from the rest of the world.  If I’ve learned anything about her it’s that she is passionate about things she cares for and will protect them at all costs.  Even if that means standing in the Redcliffe Tavern as I argue with my father and not giving a damn what he had to say, but what would be the best for me in the long run.”

Varric nods, “She worries constantly about how people will try to exploit her and the welling being of the people she loves.  Mainly you, but all of us.”

“I think that’s why she asked me to train her.  She didn’t want outsiders to see how she looked at you, because she knows she has a lot of enemies and that would make you an easy target.”

Cullen looks down at the reins in his hand.  This conversation is making a lot of things click into place.  Her desire to keep their engagement secret.  The fact that everyone still thinks they haven’t had sex.  The lack of gossip about their relationship.  The lack of gossip about her in general, save what she has planted herself.  The fear of being manipulated has never been expressed to him, but it’s clear as day now.  He believes that she worries that her loved ones will be hurt because of her actions and her attachment to them.  If she doesn’t appear to have those connections, then she keeps those people safe.  Every time she let him push her away.  Every time she pushed him away.  It wasn’t to protect herself, it was to protect him.  Had something happened on the road that made her this concerned about it?  When did this mindset start?

Shea comes riding back to the group.  A tiny drop of blood beads up on her cheek.  “What happened?”

“Nothing.  I found a decent place to camp.”

“Love, you’re bleeding.”

She touches her cheek and looks at her gloved hand.  “You call that bleeding.  I got hit in the face with a thin branch.  See. It’s already stopped.”  She turns her horse around.  “Follow me.”  She spurs her horse and they ride after her.

***

She sits on her bedroll next to the campfire writing a report.  The same thing she does every night.  Cullen is helping Dorian and Bull set up their tent.  Varric is sitting next to Shea on his bedroll, writing something as well.

“Writing your report to Skyhold?”

“Yeah, but it’s weird because I normally send them to Cullen since he’s the one who updates the maps.  Or at least, his people do.  So, I guess I’ll send this Leliana.  What are you working on?”

“A letter.”

Shea sets her quill and paper down before turning fully to face him.  “Oh?  To whom”

“Bianca.”

“Just now getting around to it?  It’s been ages.”

Varric shrugs, “Didn’t know what to say.”

“You?  At a loss for words?  The world really is coming to an end.”

“This is different than a novel, Cub.  Our whole deal is complicated.  And after that whole red lyrium business I was mad.  And maybe a little betrayed.  It’s my fault, and Bartrand’s, that it’s even in the world.  Our greed led everyone down this path.”

Shea scoffs, “Please.  If you hadn’t found it, Corypheus would have done it on his own.”

“That’s on me and Hawke too.”

“For the last time, Varric. Corypheus being up and about isn’t your fault.  That carta clan would have gotten Hawke blood by any means necessary.  You know that.  You’ve said that!”

“True.  But if I never met Hawke…”

“Then you’d still be in Kirkwall and not near as famous or rich as you are now.  Plus, who can say if Kirkwall would even be standing right now if it wasn’t for you and Hawke.”

“That’s probably true.”

“So, don’t beat yourself up.  Tell her off or tell her you love her and wish she would have shown up to your wedding.  Or whatever.  There’s no need to mope around in self-pity about things that were really out of your control.  The world is a better place with Varric Tethras in it.”

He chuckles, “I wasn’t saying I wanted to be dead, but I see your point.”  His quill starts flying across the page.  She goes to pick up her incomplete report and it’s gone.  She looks next to her and Cullen is reading it.

“I wasn’t done with that.”

“Why do you need to even write a report if all the advisors were present?”

She laughs.  “You of all people should know the reason.”

“Because Cassandra said so when she set this whole thing up?”

She laughs again.  He loves hearing her laugh.  “Yes, but also because even the smallest amount of information can be a powerful tool.  Also, we’re on a part of the map I haven’t even been before.  So, I’m documenting that.”

He looks down at the report and reads a line out loud, “We saw a lot of trees and then not so many trees.”

She laughs, “It’s just the first draft.  I just write what comes to my head, edit it, then send of a clean copy.”

“I’m leaning all kinds of things about you today.”

Varric quickly stands, “That’s my cue to uh… set up my tent.”

She looks over at him as he sets the report down.  “What’s on your mind?”  He rubs his neck.  “Is your head any better now that we’ve stopped for the night?”

“Not really.  And please don’t change the subject.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not changing the subject.  I fully intend to return to whatever it is you feel you need to discuss, but the whole reason for stopping so early was to help your headache.”  She stands up and offers him her hand.  “Let’s get the tent set up, it looks like rain.  Otherwise I’d just sleep on my bedroll by the fire.”  He takes her hand and he stands.  They set up their tent a little further away than the others.  She smirks over to where Bull and Dorian are talking to Varric.  She is used to their noise by now, but Cullen isn’t.  Once their tent is set up, she gathers things from over by the camp fire and loads them inside the tent.  He is sitting on a bedroll when she comes back.  “Didn’t you bring a cot?  I thought the ground hurt your back.”

“It does, but it’s only built for one.  And you plan on sleeping on the floor so…”

She laughs, “My dear sweet Cullen.  I would have if there wasn’t going to be rain.  Plus, cuddling on the ground is no fun.  Now take your armor off.”

“Are you taking your armor off?”

“Not usually, but since I have someone warm and soft to sleep with I planned on it.”

He smirks, “You first then.”

“Commander, are you trying to have sex with me while you have a headache?”

“If I am?”

“Let me help with the headache first and then we’ll talk.”  She suddenly laughs.

“What?”

“Poor Varric.”

“What?”

“Bull and Dorian typically go at it every night when we travel.  In fact, after they eat and get settled in, we should be hearing that at any moment.  And then Varric and I talk by the fire until they calm down enough for us to sleep.  But this time… he’s on his own.”

Cullen takes off his gloves and rubs his neck.  He doesn’t like the idea of having sex loud enough for the others to hear.  He likes the seclusion they have in her quarters, where they can be as loud as they want as long as the balcony doors are closed.  When he doesn’t take off more armor pieces, she rolls her eyes and starts unstrapping her own.  Taking the hint he stands and they neatly stack their armor in the corner of the tent.  She is finished before him for once, his headache is making him sluggish.  As he pulls off his boots, he feels her press her lips on his back.  Her hot tongue licking between his shoulder blades.

He quickly removes the rest of his armor and turns to face her.  Before he can touch her, she points to the cot.  She set it up in for him.  He groans and sits down on it.  She sits behind him and starts rubbing his shoulders.  Soft moans escape his lips and her strong hands work his muscles.  “Can you talk while I do this?”

“Mmm… maybe?”

“Alright, well the floor is yours.”

He sits there enjoying his massage.  Thinking about what he wants to say to her.  She runs her thumbs up his neck.  “You’re not… keeping anything from me are you?”

Her hands continue their work as she thinks.  “Uh… not that I’m aware of.  Why do you ask?”

“Two words.  Ben Hassrath.”

“Oh that!  I thought it would help with the Game and…”  She hesitates, but then continues, deciding to put it all out there.  “I’ve been increasingly worried about how my… reactions and emotions… might be able to be used against me.  Like if some agent of Corypheus saw me look at you he might try to use you to lure me out or something.  I think it’s good to feel connected and emotional about the things we do, but I don’t want to give any of our enemies anymore things to use against us than they already have.”

“Then why do you use it when we have serious conversations?”

Her hands pause.  “Am I doing that?”

“Yes.”

She kisses the back of his neck before massaging his scalp.  “Then I apologize.  Bull said that might happen.  That I’d become so used to doing it that I’d forget.  I’ll try not to do that anymore.”

“Alright, and then from what I saw today and what the guys were all saying, you do missions on your own?”

“That’s not exactly fair.  That makes it sound like I go off to fight red templars on my own or some other dangerous thing.  I just scout for potential camps, because I have the map and I’m the fastest.  If there’s a mission that has some questionable elements, then I might start it, but only to scout the area we’re supposed to go.  But that’s about it.  Did they say that I did battles on my own?”

“No, but it was implied.”

“Sweetheart, I wasn’t trying to worry you.  And telling you about my extra job as a scout would only make you more tense.”  She presses her thumbs into the dip at the base of his skull.

“Do you… do what I did to you?”

She chuckles.  “You’re going to have to elaborate.”

“As in, you let me pull away or you push me away to protect me?”

She laughs, “Of course not!”  She pauses, “Well, at least not anymore.  Gosh, I can’t even remember the last time I did that.”

“Halamshiral?”

“No.  That was all you.  It’s what you said you wanted, so I let you have it.  If I was doing that whole protect you by not being with you thing, then I wouldn’t have fought so hard to get you back.  I hope you don’t think I’ve been keeping these things to myself on purpose.  We’re past all that at this point.”

“I blame this headache mostly.  It’s really settled in.  You know how I get with these damn things.”

She kisses the back of his head.  “All too well.  This is about where you were when we met I think.”

“Maybe not quite.  I was able to ignore them some by the time we met, but we’re close to that.”

A loud groan is heard, “Oh come on!  Not the Seheron fantasy _again_!  My neck is still a little bruised from the last time.”

Cullen looks back at her, “What’s the Seheron fantasy?”

Shea sniggers, “You know what they do to mages under the qun?”  He nods.  “Well, Bull does a version of that to Dorian.  Complete with collar and a gag.”

He slumps back against her.  “Oh Maker.  I do not want to think about that.  Much less hear it.”

She licks her lips and runs her hand down his chest.  “How’s your head?”

He rubs his temples.  “Still pounding.”

She moves her hand down lower.  “Then maybe we should try to sleep.”  She runs her hand down his body as far as she can reach over his shoulder.  The tips of her fingers brush across the edge of his coarse hair.  He inhales sharply. He shifts forward and turns to face her.

“If we do this, there will be no doubt that we’re sleeping together.”

She smirks, “Oh they already know.”

“Is that so?”

She licks her lip and nods.  “They don’t know the details, of course.  But they know.”

He cups her face in his hands.  “Well, then.  What are we waiting for?”  He pulls her face to his and their lips lock together.  His lips move from hers and trail down her neck.  His fingers lightly caress her skin.  Her pulses races and moans escape her lips.  He smiles against her skin.  She’s not trying to be quiet like the last time they were in a tent.  Though he didn’t like the idea at first, suddenly the idea of having an audience makes him bold and turns him on.  Her skin tastes a little salty from sweating under her armor as his tongue traces the lines of her body.  She lays back on the cot and hangs her legs off the sides.  Watching her spread out before him makes his cock twitch.  He wants nothing more than to just drive himself in her over and over again, but something in him wants to drag it out.  Make her scream for the ears outside the tent.

His rough hands caress her smooth skin as he moves up her figure.  Little pants rise from her chest, but it’s not enough for him.  He wants to drive her crazy before he gives into her need to have him inside her.  He flicks his tongue on one of her pert nipples and she moans.  He teases her other nipple with his hand while his tongue flicks and licks her sensitive skin.  He knows for a fact that just playing with her breasts will make her cum, and he intends to do that before doing anything else.

He grazes his teeth along her breasts and the center of her chest before switching his flicking and licking to the other side.  She squirms under his touch.  She arches her back and moans in satisfaction.  He sucks on her nipple and squeezes the other between his fingers.  His tongue circles it as he sucks on it.  Her fingers weave into his hair.  Her skin is flushed and her eyes are closed as she savors his affection.

He moves back to the first nipple and sucks on it, drawing circles around it with his tongue.  His fingers tease and caress the supple skin of her breasts.  Her fingers clinch in his hair and she moans loudly.  Her body tense as she rides out the wave.  She isn’t even finished coming, when he runs his free hand against the soft wet skin between her legs.  A moan hitches in her throat.  Though she is enjoying herself immensely, she hungers for something more.  Before she can demand that he take her, his mouth trails down her stomach and his tongue flicks her clit.  She pants loudly as he goes down on her.

He feels like it’s been forever since he has worshipped her body like this.   His hands touching every inch of her skin as his mouth works to make her cum again.  It doesn’t take long, his expert tongue and lips pushing her over the edge as another loud cry bursts from her. She pulls his hair, making him crawl up her body.  He smirks down at her red, sweaty, and breathless face.  She notices a glint in his eye.  A mischievous look that makes her body quiver with anticipation. He kisses her then along her jaw line.  He whispers in her ear, “Feeling adventurous?”  She nods, not trusting herself to speak.

He stands and she sits up.  Before he can enact whatever plan he has hatched, she wraps her fingers around his thick member.  It pulses in her hand as she stokes him.  He moans and throws his head back.  She licks the tip of him and he moans again.  She licks all over the length of him causing low rumbles in his chest. 

He can’t wait anymore.  He wants her and he wants to make her scream.  He cups her face and makes her stand.  He twirls his finger in front of her face and her eyes widen.  She does as instructed and turns her back to him.  He places his hands on the sides of her thighs.  He runs his hands up her sides as he kisses and sucks the side of her neck.  She moans and squirms under his touch.  He runs a hand up her back and stops between her shoulder blades.  He gently applies pressure and she bends at the waist pressing her ass against his stiff cock.  She rests her palms on the cot.  He uses his feet to spread her legs slightly.  He reaches between her legs.  He inserts his fingers into her slick center and a loud whimper escapes her.  She leans her head back and turns her head to look at him over her shoulder.  He smirks and moves his fingers with renewed vigor.  She tightens around his fingers and cries out as spasm ripples through her.

He steps closer to her and slides his fingers out.  He grips his cock and lines himself up.  She feels him tease her with by running the head against her.  She shifts her hips and he drives himself deep inside her.  She moans loudly.  He grabs her hips and thrusts, hard and deep.  The noises she makes are guttural and loud.  He watches her ass jiggle as their skin slaps together.  He lets the primal beast inside him ravage her.  They are both moaning, groaning, growling loudly into the night.

“Oh Cullen!  Oh!  Yeah!”

He plows into her over and over, building heat, speed, and intensity with every thrust.  Her cries are constant.  She is breathless.  Sweat drips from their bodies in the heat.  His nails dig into her hips.  She grabs her breast to stop their violent swinging, playing with her nipples as he lets himself go.  Fucking her as she scream outs repeatedly.  He feels himself getting close, he tries to hold it back until he can make her cum hard one last time.  He uses his arms and his hips to slam hard and deep inside her.  She grabs his hand and throws her head back.  Her walls close on him and the loudest cry yet bursts from her lips. It almost sends him off the cliff.  He removes himself from her.  She spins and sits on the cot.  She takes him into her mouth, tasting herself on his slick erection.  He grabs her ponytail as she aggressively sucks.  He can feel himself pressing against the back of her throat.  He moans and she hums in response.  His whole body tenses.  His breath catches in his chest.  The veins in his neck bulge.  He grabs her head with both hands and holds her still as his cry rings out.  His orgasm fills her mouth.

She slowly removes him from her mouth.  Licking every inch of him clean.  He grabs her chin to make her look up at him.  He doesn’t know what spurs him to do this as it isn’t something he’s ever done before but he looks her dead in the eye, “Open your mouth.”  She does and he can see that she hasn’t yet swallowed.  He falls to his knees and kisses her.  Their tongues running together.  He tastes him on her tongue.  She manages to swallow most of it as they make out.  Then an unexpected sound hits their ears.  Applause.

She pulls back from him and covers her face.  She started it, so her embarrassment at the very vocal love making is all her doing.  He chuckles.  “Should I go take a bow?”

She playfully hits him.  “I’m sure Dorian would love that.”

He sits on the cot next to her and pulls her into his arms.  “Good news is my headache of officially gone.”

She nuzzles his neck and smiles.  “Well, that’s something.”

“You sound tried.”

She laughs weakly, “You think?”

“Think the other couple in camp are going to try to get revenge?”

“I guarantee it.”

“Then maybe we should go to sleep before they get started again.”

He lays back with her pressed to his chest.  They get as comfortable as they can on the one person cot.  They don’t bother with a blanket because it is hot.  “Do you think we’re having a short spring?”

He laughs, “Love, you must have lost track of time.  Summerday has come and gone.”

She sighs, “Time flies when you’re saving the world.”  Her voice sounds far away.  Any moment she’s going to fall asleep.

He kisses her clammy forehead.  “Good night, love.”  When she doesn’t respond, he looks down.  She has already passed out.  He smiles smugly to himself and closes his eyes.  Happy that the headache that has been bothering him for days has finally ended.

***

Shea is starting to feel like this hunt for Samson is turning into a wild goose chase.  Though they find lots of useful information, most of it is destroyed when Samson’s men set fire to the temple.  She feels sorry for the dying tranquil they found.  How could someone who seemed so vile garner such loyalty?

Cullen on the other hand so in a great mood.  They are so close to defeating and capturing Samson that he can almost taste their victory.  He never truly expected Samson to still be there as he is certain word had gotten to him that the Inquisition is on his trail.  Once Dagna took a look at their findings, he is confident that they would be able to take Samson out, removing Corypheus’ General from the playing field.

Shea sits next to the campfire writing her report, when Cullen stands in front of her.  He has been celebrating their victory, though Shea doesn’t agree that this is a complete victory, she is happy to see him having a good time.  He stumbles over to her and takes her hand.  “Come on, love.  Celebrate with me!”

She smirks at him, “You are a horrible distraction.  I haven’t been able to finish a single report this whole trip.”

“We’ve got him!  Your report can wait!”

She shakes her head.  “Give me my hand back and let me at least finish this report while it’s all still fresh in my mind.”

He pulls on her hand, trying to get her to stand.  “Dance with me!”

She groans, “How is it that I’m the workaholic now?”

“Just write it in the morning.”

She sighs and sets the paper down.  She allows him to pull her off the ground and into his arms.  The smell of alcohol is strong on his breath as he hums and sways with her next to the fire.  She doesn’t recognize the song, but it reminds her of the first time she ever heard him sing back in that mountain pass after Haven.  She rests her head on his armored chest allowing herself to enjoy his mood.  Happy and drunk. 

He kisses the top of her head and she looks up at him.  There’s a glimmer in his eyes.  One she knows all too well at this point.  Without even speaking to her, he pulls her towards their tent.  He paws at her armor, having trouble with the straps due to his clumsy, drunken fingers.  She chuckles and helps him out of his armor first.  She makes him sit on the cot before starting on her own.  He lays back to watch her, smiling from ear to ear.  She turns to set the pieces of metal on the ground and when she turns back to him, she has to stop herself from laughing.  In that short amount of time, her dear Commander has passed out.  She removes the rest of her armor and puts on her comfortable clothes.  She goes back to the campfire to finish her reports.

She writes every report she has neglected before finally turning in for the night.  She rolls then up and puts them in her saddle bag.  She tiptoes into their tent.  He is still fast asleep.  His position on the cot leaves no room for her though.  So instead of waking him, she rolls out her bedroll.  She lays down on it and rolls onto her side to watch him sleep.  He has a slight smile on his face.  She smiles to herself and curls up to get some rest.

***

When Cullen’s eyes open again, the sun is just starting to rise.  He immediately searches for her, when he finds she isn’t sleeping with him.  He sighs when he sees her sprawled out on her stomach.  Why had she decided to sleep on the floor?  He is a little surprised that he doesn’t have a hangover.  He crawls into the floor and then over to her sleeping body.  He brushes the hair out of her face and bends down to kiss her soft lips.  His kisses are gentle, but heavy enough for her to feel them.  He knows she’s starting to wake up when her lips start responding.  She opens one eye and it meets his.  “Morning.”

She groans and turns her head away from him.  He chuckles and runs his fingers through her hair. He takes one of her hands and brings it to rest on his morning wood.  She lets out a half moan, half groan and turns her head back to him.  She traces the planes of this erection.  His soft moans break her out of the bad mood that is hovering over her.  She sits up and pulls the shirt over her head.  His mouth is on her breast before she can even put her arms down.  She exhales happily and runs her fingers through his messy hair.

She chuckles to herself thinking about the wakeup call the others in camp are about to get. She lays on her back and lifts her hips to push her pants down.  He moves to pull them off her legs.  He throws her pants to the side.  She sits up and captures his face in her hands.  Her lips crash into his and she pulls him down on top of her.  Her legs fly around his waist.  He can feel her eagerness.  She wants to skip to foreplay and get right down to business.  He gives her what she wants.  He drives himself deep and she moans loudly.  They vigorously grind and thrust against each other.  Neither one of them holding back the noises that escape them.

Dorian, who is a light sleeper despite being able to sleep through Bull’s bear like snoring, is the first to be woken up by the sounds of sex in the air.  “You have got to be kidding me!”  He looks over at Bull who is sound asleep.  He has half a mind to storm into their tent and scold them for waking him up.  Varric peaks his head into the tent.

“They woke you too huh?”

“I don’t understand how that big ox can just sleep through that.  The sun’s not even fully up yet.”

Varric smirks, “It seems like Curly likes an audience.”

Dorian strokes his chin.  “How upset would they be if we watched?”

Varric waves his hands, “Oh no.  You’re on your own with that.  I’m going to go find some breakfast.”  Varric leaves the tent.  Dorian has to fight the urge to take a peak.  He hears Bull yawn and looks over as he sits up.

Bull chuckles, “Wish you’d wake me up like that.”

“No you don’t.  Last time I tried you nearly ripped my head off.”

Bull shrugs and stands up.  He starts packing up the tent.  “Well, we’re up.  No sense just sitting around listening to them.”  He sees the look on Dorian’s face and laughs.  “You want to go over there don’t you?”

“What can I say?  I’m curious.”

“You just want to add more material to your spank bank.”

Dorian makes a disgusted noise, “Spank bank?  That’s perverse.”

“But true.  I know you think about him sometimes.  I also know you think about her sometimes.”

“Do I need to remind you that I favor men?”

Bull chuckles, “I’m well aware for your preference, Kadan.  Doesn’t mean you can’t make an exception.”

Dorian rolls his eyes and leaves the tent.  He is right of course, but that doesn’t mean he should go watch them in their private moment.  Well, semi-private.  Part of him wants to join them, but he has a feeling they wouldn’t like that since neither of them seemed interested in him in that way.  He gets the campfire going again and sits next to it, content to listen and fantasize.

Cullen is close.  Shea is clinging to him breathless and covered in sweat.  He knows that she has been sufficiently satisfied so there’s no need to prolong it.  His pace increases.  She cries out and her legs tighten around her.  The pressure of her around him as he thrusts himself to the hilt sends him over the edge.  He moans loudly and his body pulsates.  _Shit.  That’s not good._   His eyes lock with hers as the orgasm releases from him.  She sighs.  She could only be mad at herself.  It isn’t his fault she didn’t catch the signs this time.  She places her hand on his cheek.  “That one’s on me.”

“You’re not mad?”

She chuckles, “How could I possibly be mad at you for something that was my fault?”

“Yeah, but I…”

She puts her finger on his lips.  “If something comes of it, we’ll figure out what to do.  Don’t stress about I now.”

“Alright.”

“Besides.  You’ve finished inside me other times and nothing happened, so maybe it won’t this time.”  She leans up and kisses him.  “Now, we should probably get ready to go, before we go out to meet the wrath of Dorian.  I imagine he’s pissed off at us for waking him up.” He stands and pulls her off the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least this one is smut filled lol. I'll post the next one as soon as it's finished!
> 
> UPDATED July 25, 2018


	60. Friends in Low Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have be working all day to get this chapter out. It's a long one to make up for the delays and what not. Cold showers may be in order lol.
> 
> *** time/pov shift

The very first thing Shea does when they gets back to Skyhold is rush to the undercroft to speak with Dagna.  Before she even finishes climbing the stairs to the throne room, she is stopped by Cassandra.

“Do you have a moment, Inquisitor?”

“Uh, sure.  What’s up?”

“I’ve been worried about the Seekers for a while now and all of my letters have gone unanswered.  So do you think you could spare some resources to look for them?”

“Of course!  Write up the request and deliver it to the war room and I’ll get someone on it right now.”  Shea looks around and steps closer to Cassandra, “I have some things to handle, but I really need to talk to you about this whole Divine thing.”

“I was hoping to talk to you about that too.”

“Then I’ll come find you later.”

Cole comes charging past them with Solas and Moira hot some his heels.  Cassandra shrugs and goes her own way.  Shea sighs and follows them into the courtyard.

Moira is screaming at Solas, “He’s not some play thing of yours.  He is his own person!”

Solas crosses his arms, “He’s not a person. He’s a spirit.”

Cole paces the courtyard, “What if this amulet doesn’t work?  Just bind me so they can’t!”

“That won’t be necessary, Cole.  The amulet will work.”

Cole spots Shea.  “Order him to do it!  He likes spirits and he is a mage but he won’t bind me!”

“Calm down, Cole.  We’ve talked about this remember.  Solas isn’t a blood mage, he can’t bind you.  They should have found the amulet by now and we can try it out.  If it doesn’t work we will find a way to…”

Cole surges forward and grabs Shea’s face.  Normally, someone charging her like that would make lash out, but it’s Cole.  He doesn’t mean her harm and he’s obviously hurting.  “Then you kill me!  Just do it now!”

She places her hands over his.  “Cole.  I only agreed to do that if you became a demon or you started killing people again.  I won’t do that just because you are scared.  It’s alright to be scared.”

He presses his palms into her cheeks.  His eyes look desperate, like frighten child.  She pushes his hat up a little to get a better look at him.  “You have to help me.”

Shea waves Solas and Moira away.  Solas goes back up the stairs, but Moira hesitates.  Shea waves her off again and the elf storms off towards the stables.  Shea returns her eyes to Cole’s face.  “Take a breath.”  He does.  “Now, I am working to finding this amulet.  But I need you to be calm while we wait for it to arrive.  As I said before, it might already be here.  I won’t let anyone bind you or use you in any way.  You have to trust me as I trust you.  You can feel that right?  That I don’t fear you?”  He nods.  “And you can feel that I want to help you?”  He nods.  “Then let me.  Be patient.  We will figure this out.”

He hugs her suddenly.  This whole exchange is the most physical contact she’s ever had with him.  She hugs him tightly.  He’s never been this touchy before.  She wonders what changed that.  He whispers, “Thank you.”

“You’re my friend, Cole.  I’ll do everything I can to help you.  And you don’t have to thank me for it.”

His arms tighten around her.  He is strong for someone so thin.  He is quiet as they hug for what seems like a long time.  “I’ve never done this before.  It’s nice.”

“You’ve never hugged anyone?”

“No one has ever wanted to.”

She rubs his back.  “Well, if you ever want to hug me, I’m ok with that.”

“Will Cullen be mad?”

She laughs, “No.  Friends hug each other all the time.  There’s nothing wrong with that and he has no reason to be mad.”  Cole loosens his hold on her and steps back.  “Are you feeling better?”

“Could I… stay with you for a while?  I don’t like being alone.”

She nods.  “It’s going to be pretty boring, but sure.”  He takes her hand.

“Friends do this right?”

“Not in my experience, but if holding my hand makes you feel better, than go for it.”

“Ok.”  She walks with Cole up the stairs.  She decides that Dagna will still be there later and she should have that discussion with Cullen present any way.  She goes to the war room.  Sera is leaning on the wall next to the large door.

“Hey Sera.  I don’t normally see you in this part of Skyhold.”

“Got a message from my friends, ya.  I need you do a thing for me.  Well, not much of a thing.  Just a little walk through with some of Cully Wully’s people.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“I already gave the paper to Lady Prissypants… why are you holding his hand?  Won’t Cully Wully get all jealous?”

“We’re just friends, Sera.  Nothing wrong with friends holding hands.”

“Riiiight.  Friends.  Whatevah.  Have fun with your meetin’.”  Sera pushes off the wall and goes about her business.

“Is she right?  Will he be jealous?”

She chuckles, “Jealous?  No.  Confused?  Maybe a little.  He won’t say anything though.  If I’m holding your hand, I must have a reason.  Which I will explain to him later.”

Cole nods, “Alright.”

She pushes open the war room door and they step inside.  She is right, of course. The advisors all look up from their reports and a look of confusion crosses all of their faces.

“We weren’t expecting you until later, Inquisitor.”

Cole holds up their hands, “We’re just friends.”

Shea pats Cole’s arm, “You don’t need to explain yourself.”

He leans close to her ear, “They are all staring.”

She whispers back, “Ignore them.”  She turns her attention to the group.  “Yes, I have received some urgent requests from a few members of the inner circle and felt we should move on them right away.”

Her official sounding tone indicates that she will not address the Cole in the room, but will instead work as if he isn’t there.  After most of the business has been handled, Josephine hands Shea a box. “We found it in Rivain, just as I said we would.”

Shea tucks the box under her arm.  “Thank you, Josie.  Is there any other business?”

“I would like to know what our plan for Samson is.”

Shea smirks at him, “A little obsessed, Commander?”

“Me?  Never.”  A small smirk crosses his lips.

“I’ll come get you when I’m headed for the undercroft.”  He nods and she leaves with Cole.

They walk hand in hand through the throne room headed for the rotunda.  Shea can already hear the yelling.  Cole pulls on her hand to stop her walking.  She looks over at him.  “Something wrong?”

“They are fighting about me.  Again.”

“Do they do that often?”

“Every day since your dinner.  Dorian liked his gift.”

“You let him remember?”

“I scared him at first, but he was happy.  I helped!”

“That’s good.  What do they fight about?”

“What I am.”

“What do you want to be?”

He traces patterns on the back of her gloved hand.  She waits patiently for him to respond.  “I want to be me.”

“And what does that mean to you?”

He traces the hard metal lines of her greaves.  People are starting to stare, but she is so concerned about him that she doesn’t notice.  “I… want to be like you.”

“Like me?”

“Yes.”

“You want to be human?”

“I… don’t know.”

She squeezes his hand.  “Let’s go see if this amulet works.  If it doesn’t, we’ll go from there.”

“If it doesn’t work then you need to…”

“Hush. There are more than just two options here.  And I’ll be with you the whole time.”  She leads him into the rotunda.  Solas and Moira are in each other’s face screaming back and forth.  Sometimes even at the same time.  Shea clears her throat and they jump apart.  Moira’s fist are clenched.  She holds out the box.  “We found the amulet.”

Solas takes the box from her.  He takes the amulet out and sets the box on the table.  “Are you ready Cole?”

“Yes.”  Solas puts it around his neck.

“Now I just have to put some of magic into it.”

As soon as he starts the amulet glows and then a magic shockwave bursts from it sending Cole staggering backwards.  “I didn’t work!”

Varric enters, “What are you doing to the kid?”

“If you must know, child of the stone, I am trying to protect him from binding.”

Varric scoffs, “You can only bind a spirit, but I think he’s more than that now.”

“What would you know?”

Moira steps around him to stand next to Varric.  “That is exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you!”

The three of them start arguing.  Shea goes over to Cole who is frantically pacing.  She manages to stop him by grabbing his hands.  He looks terrified.  “Why didn’t it work?  It should have worked!”

Shea has no idea what she’s doing, how best to comfort a frighten spirit who is apparently more than that.  She places her hand on his cheek and searches his face for the answers.  _Cole reads people.  I wonder is he has ever read himself._   “Cole.  Calm down.  Breathe.  Good.  Now focus on yourself and on the magic in the amulet.  What do you feel?”

The three that are arguing stop suddenly as they wait for Cole’s response.  “Warm, soft blanket covering, but it catches, tears.  I’m the wrong shape.”

Moira looks over at Solas, “I told you he was too much of a person for it to work.”  Shea angrily shushes her.  She can see in Cole’s eyes that there’s something else.

“There’s something…” He turns from her and points east.  “There.  That way.”

Shea searches her mind for all the places east of Skyhold.  Ferelden mostly, but where in Ferelden?  Cole takes her hand again, reading her thoughts and knowing she is about to ask him to go with her to the war table.  “We’ll figure this out.  We’ll find whatever is interfering.  Then we’ll go take care of it.”

He looks around the room.  “Will you all come with me?”

Solas nods, “Of course.”

“Wouldn’t dream of staying behind, kid.”

Moira pats his arm.  “If you need us, we’re here for you.”

Shea leads him back through the war room.  All thoughts of Samson and Corypheus pushed from her mind as she completely focuses on this task.  She waves at Josephine as she passes her.  She pushes the door open and Cullen is still standing over the table, planning something to do with the Arbor Wilds no doubt.  He looks up when he hears her enter.  “Something wrong?  Did it work?”

“No.  Something is interfering with it.  We need to find out what it is.”  She pulls Cole to stand between her and Cullen.  “Alright, Cole.  Focus on that feeling again.  Where is it coming from?”

He places his palms flat on the table, staring at Ferelden side of the map.  One of his hands slowly lifts off the table and hovers over different cities.  Cullen looks over at Shea and opens his mouth to speak.  She places a finger over her lips signaling him to be silent.  They watch Cole search himself and the map.  He suddenly jabs his finger into the table.  “There.”  Shea leans forward to see where it landed.

“Redcliffe Village?”

“Yes.”

She rubs his back, “Good.  Go get some rest.  We’ll leave in the morning.”

Cole hugs her tightly.  “Thank you.”

She chuckles and returns his hug, “Don’t thank me yet.  We don’t know what awaits us there.”

“Should I let the others know?”

“I’ll take care of everything.  Just go get some rest.”

He backs away from her, smiles, and leaves the war room.  Cullen shakes his head to clear his mind of the scene he just witnessed.  “Leaving again so soon?”

She sighs, “You saw him.  He’s freaking out.  He has been a little off since Adamant.”

“He wasn’t off before that?”

She hits his arm.  “Now stop that.  Cole is our friend and he’s scared.”

He rubs his arm, “You’re right.  I’m sorry.  I’ve just never seen him so…”

“Touchy?”

“Yeah.”

“We have Moira to thank for that.  It never occurred to him that physical contact, like a hug, can help almost as much as words.  But yes, we’re leaving for Redcliff tomorrow.  And if we find anything on the Seekers before we leave, we’ll be going there too.  I’ve been neglecting our people for too long.  Blackwall is the one who reminded me of that.”

“What about Corypheus?”

“I’m not saying we should be idle.  You and Dagna can work on the stuff we found at the Shrine of Dumat, while I try to finish what I can before…”

She looks away from him.  She is afraid that they won’t just find Samson in the Arbor Wilds.  Because this is something Corypheus wants, she figures he won’t leave it to chance.  Especially if reports have gotten to him about her digging into his general trying to find a weakness.  Cullen lifts her chin.  Nothing of what she is feeling is showing on her face.  “You’re doing it again.”

She shakes her head.  Clearing the thoughts from her mind before dropping her guard.  “Sorry.  That’s quickly becoming my default thinking face.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Corypheus.”

“What about him?”

“What if he’s there when we go after Samson in the Wilds?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”  She can see that same fear drift across his face that she was feeling moments ago.  She wraps her arms around his waist.  He surrounds her with his arms and tilts his head forward to rest his nose on the top of her head.  “Everything will be fine.  You’ll have the full weight of the Inquisition behind you as well as support from Orlais.  His armies are battered and broken.  We will win even if he shows up.”

“And his dragon?”

“Is probably still injured after Adamant.  I doubt he’d want the thing to burn down the woods while he’s still searching for the Eluvian.”

She sighs.  “Ready to go talk to Dagna?”

“Yes.  Do you have things to do after?”

“Yes.  But I will see you tonight.  Bring food.”

He laughs and lifts her chin.  He kisses her.  Their lips and tongues more together for a moment before they part.  “See you tonight.”

She backs away from him and saunters out of the war room.

***

Shea has never traveled with so many people.  Cassandra, Sera, Bull, Dorian, Solas, Varric, Cole, Moira, and all of the Chargers.  First stop, Redcliffe.  She leaves everyone at camp except those Cole requests to come with him.  Solas, Moira, and Varric.  Shea has to stop and issue orders to Moira and Solas during their walk into the village.  “Do not talk to each other about anything magic, fade, spirit, demon, or elven related or so help me, I’ll have to gag the both of you.”

Moira crosses her arms over her chest, “If we can’t talk about those things, then what are we supposed to talk about?”

“My point exactly.  I’m tired of hearing your constant arguing.  We’re here as moral support for Cole.  You can at least act like it.”

Cole takes her hand as they clear the gates.  He leads her towards the center where the large griffin monument stands honoring the Hero of Ferelden.  A man stands with a dwarf.  Coins is exchanged and Shea recognizes the bottles of Lyrium even at this distance.  The man excuses himself and approaches them.  “Can I help you?”

Cole grip on her hand tightens painfully.  “You.”

“Cole, do you…”  The pressure on her hand is suddenly gone and as her eyes blink, she sees Cole charge and force the man to his knees.

She rushes forward.  “You killed me!”

The man holds up his hands to block is face, “What?  But I… I don’t even know you!”

Cole raises his fist, “You forgot!  You locked me in the dungeon in the Spire, and you forgot.  And I died in the dark!”

“The… the… Spire?”

Shea places her hand on Cole’s raised fist.  “Cole.  Who is this man?  Talk to us.”  Cole looks back at her and the man takes this opportunity to flee.  Cole snaps his head in the direction he ran and takes a few steps.  Shea moves with him, her hand still wrapped around his fist.  Varric moves to stand in his path.

“Take it easy, kid.”

Cole points angrily after the man.  “He killed me!  He.  Killed.  Me.  That’s why it doesn’t work!  He killed me, and I have to kill him back!”

Shea grabs his shoulders and makes him look at her.  “Take a breath, Cole.  Tell me exactly what happened.”

Solas speaks before Cole does.  His voice is gentle and kind, “Cole, this man could not have killed you.  You are a spirit.  You have not even possessed a body.”

Moira scoffs, but says nothing.  Remembering what Shea said about arguing.

Cole looks into Shea’s eyes.  “A broken body, bloody, banged on the stone cell, guts gripping in the dank dark.  A captured apostate.”  Varric closes his eyes and bows his head.  This sounds all too familiar.  It’s Kirkwall’s Circle all over again.  “They threw him into the dungeon in the Spire at Val Royeaux.  They forgot about him.  He starved to death.”  Moira’s arms drop to her sides.  Solas shifts his eyes towards her and they make eye contact.  Cole turns away from Shea and crosses his arms over his chest.  “I came through to help… and I couldn’t.  So I… became him.  Cole.”

Varric shakes his head and looks over at Shea, “If Cole was an apostate, that’d make the guy we just saw a templar.”

Shea nods, “Makes sense since I saw him buying Lyrium.”

Cole charges Shea and stops an inch from her face.  “Let me kill him.  I need to…”  He turns back to where the templar ran, “I.  Need.  To.”

Cole paces near the statue waiting for permission.  The others gather around Shea.

Solas is the first to speak.  “You cannot let him kill this man.”

Varric whispers, “I don’t think anyone was going to suggest that, Chuckles.”

Moira shrugs, “I might have.  Unless someone has a better idea.”

Solas sneers at her, “Cole is a spirit.  The death of the real Cole wounded him, perverted him from his purpose.  To regain that part of himself, he must forgive.”

“Should I have forgiven my bother for trying to kill me?”  They look at Shea, her face void of an emotion.  “I killed him without a second of hesitation.  Was that wrong?”

Varric looks back at Solas, “She’s right.  I mean come on!  You don’t just forgive someone _killing_ you.”

“ _You_ don’t.  A spirit _can._ ”

“The kid is angry.  He needs to work through it.”

Solas sneers at the dwarf. “A spirit does not work through emotions.  It embodies them.”

Moira, though annoyed, keeps her voice level.  “Solas, can’t you see he isn’t a spirit anymore.  He made himself human when he became Cole.  And humans change.  They get hurt and heal.”

Varric nods, “He needs to work it out _like_ a _person_.”

“You would alter the essence of what his is.”

Moira taps his shoulder to make him look at her.  “He did that to himself when he left the Fade.”

“We’ve just trying to help him survive in this world in the way he chose to move around in it.”

Shea scratches her head.  “So, an apostate named Cole was taken to the Circle and left to starve.  His suffering caught the attention of a spirit…”

Solas nods, “Likely one of compassion.  An uncommon spirit and all too fragile when its efforts to help prove to be in vain.”

Moira nods.  “It’s true.  He does possess many of the same attributes of a Spirit of Compassion, but he has changed his very nature by possessing a human body.  He doesn’t have magic, like the original Cole, he has expressed that he had a hard time at first determining how he could help now.  Killing mages who even had the smallest thoughts of suicide.  He has learned.  Spirits of Compassion don’t learn.”

Shea has heard enough.  “Cole came into this world to help.  He became Cole to continue doing that.  He has expressed his desire to be more like me.  I didn’t really know what that meant until now.  He wants to be able to help like I do and the only way he can do that is if he’s more human.”

Solas shakes his head while Varric nods.  Shea doesn’t want Cole to kill this man.  That won’t help.  She looks around and spots Bianca on Varric’s back.  “Does she have a safety?”

“Huh?”

“Can you load a bolt, but prevent it from firing?”

“Sure, why?”

“How would you feel about letting Cole use her?”

Solas steps towards her, “You can’t possibly…”

Moira grabs his arm, “Don’t you ever listen.  She’s setting it up so that Cole can’t actually shoot the man.  Varric isn’t just going to let him kill.  That won’t help.”

Shea looks between Moira and Solas.  “Do try not to kill other.  Come on Varric let’s go get Cole some closure.”

***

Next stop on the life changing events express is some back road in Crestwood.  Shea, Sera, Bull, and Dorian go along on this trip.  Which is over very quickly.  Sera’s friend gets killed after snitching on her.  Then Sera turns a noble’s head into jam.  Then they go back to camp.  Sera is beyond thrilled that Shea didn’t waste a single breath to ask the dickbag noble why he did what he did and just let Sera kill him.  The end.

***

Next stop, The Storm Coast to meet up with one of Bull’s Ben Hassrath compadres.  An elf, nicknamed Gat by Bull, is to help broker an alliance with the Qunari.  The first of its kind.  The mission seems easy enough.  Kill Venatori in two locations, a gigantic Qunari ship called a Dreadnaught, will blow the Venatori ship out of the water.  But nothing is ever that easy.  She stands next to Bull as the Venatori ship explodes.  Then another group of Venatori are headed right for the Chargers.

“There’s too many, pull them back Bull.”

The Qunari elf sneers, “If you do that, those mages will attack the Dreadnaught and you’ll be Tal-Vashoth.”

Dorian moves to stand next to Bull.  A silent form of support.  Shea looks over to where Krem and the Chargers stand.  She can’t make this decision for him, but he can’t decide.  She looks over at him with tears in her eyes, but she has the rest of her face looked down tight.  “Maybe once they retreat… once the ship sinks…”

“Dreadnaughts don’t sink.”

He has trained her well, she can see what he wants though he hates himself for it.  “Bull.”  He looks down at her.  “Sound the retreat.”  She sees a hint of relief at the corner of his mouth as he blows the signal horn.  She watches the Chargers flee the field.  Gat turns on Bull.

“How could you do this Hissard?  After all these years?  You throw it all away.  For what?  For this?  For _them_?  For _her?_ ”

Shea steps between Gat and Bull.  “His name is The Iron Bull.”

“I suppose it is.”  Gat walks away from them and they watch the Dreadnaught explode.  Dorian laces his fingers with Bull’s, but doesn’t say a word.

Bull sighs and turns away.  “Come on.  Let’s go get my boys.”

***

Bull, Dorian, Sera, Cole, and the Chargers head back to Skyhold.  Solas, Moira, Varric, and Casandra continued on to Caer Ostwin, the last known location of the Seekers of Truth.  It is not good news for Cassandra, but now all of the secrets long kept from her are revealed.  Seeker Lucius is dead now, as well as some more of Shea’s family.  She imagines if she wipes out every red templar that almost every Trevelyan in Thedas will be dead.  A larger number of the Seekers are dead and Cassandra has a lot of reading to do.  As Inquisitor, Shea takes it upon herself to name Cassandra Lord Seeker since she now owned the tome that only Lord Seekers were allowed to read. 

On their way back, Shea, Cassandra, and Moira sit around the campfire.  Shea looks over at Cassandra as she runs her fingers along the engraving on the tomes’ cover.  “Have you thought more about the whole Divine thing?”

Cassandra chuckles, “Just jumping right in I see.”

Shea shrugs, “You’ve been avoiding it every time I ask, so yes.”

“I suppose I should want it.  There are so many things that need fixing.  Reforms need to be made, but I have some selfish goals that would get utterly obliterated if I were elected.  If it happens, I will accept, but I won’t say that I wouldn’t be grateful if someone else was chosen.”

“What if the person is Leliana?”

“Her reforms would be extreme, but she is devout and cunning.  If anyone can do it, it is her.  Though I have heard whispers that people have been mentioning a third name.”

“Really?  Who?”

Cassandra laughs, “Vivienne.”

Shea laughs, “No!  But she’s a mage!”

Moira scratches the tip of her ear.  “I’m so lost.  Why is her being a mage so shocking?”  They explain to her how the Chantry works and also what Vivienne wants in regards to the Circle.  “Oh then she definitely doesn’t need any more power.”

 Shea chuckles, “She’ll get it whether we stop her from being Divine or not.”

Cassandra sighs.  “This is all very over whelming.  Lord Seeker, Seneschal, Right Hand, and maybe Divine.”

“What do you really want?  You mentioned you had selfish goals.  What might those be?”

 Cassandra sighs.  She reaches into the neck of her armor and pulls out a long gold chain.  She doesn’t pull it out all the way.  “I promised I wouldn’t say anything, but we are friends.  You are one of my dearest friends and it feels nice to talk about all this without be judged.”

Moira starts to stand, “Should I leave or…?”

Cassandra laughs.  “I may not know you as well as Shea, but we have become my friend as well.”

Moira settles back down.  “Good.  Our sparring matches weren’t in vain then.”

“And your taste in trashy romance novels doesn’t hurt either.”  They all laugh.  “You remember what… transpired at Halamshiral.”

Shea smirks, “You seduced my brother.”

“I did not!  He…”  She chuckles, “I suppose I did.  At least how he describes it.  He sent me this.”  She pulls the necklace the rest of the way out.  Hanging from the gold chain is a large oval opal pendant.

“Wow.  Did he tell you who that belonged to?”

“No.  But he said it reminded him of the dress I wore to that dance and he wanted me to have it.”

“It’s been in our family for generations.  He must have asked my mother for it.”

“I though he bought it.”

Shea shakes her head, “Nope.  My mother wore it every single day.  My father had given it to her.  It’s been worn by every… maybe I shouldn’t say that.”

“Say what?”

“My mother.  My grandmother.  Every Lady Trevelyan to sit next to the Bann has worn that necklace for generations.”

Cassandra’s eyes go wide and she looks down at the necklace.  “I… does he want me to… did he purpose to me by sending this?”

Shea laughs.  “No.  But it’s a pretty good indication that he might one day.  How would you feel about that?”

“I cast off all notions of nobility when I left Nevarra.  I never expected to go back to being nobility.”

“I don’t think he’d want that from you either.  At least not completely.  He has to know you have responsibilities and passions that don’t include being stuck in Ostiwck.  Rebuilding the Seekers for one.”

Moira chimes in, “Brandon is a good man.  Though sometimes a little too serious for my tastes.”  This is when Shea is reminded that she never told either of these women about what her brother did to her.  And maybe that is for the best.  He isn’t the same person that he was back then.

Shea sighs, “How do you feel about children?”

“I… I’ve always liked the idea of having a family, but it just never seemed like it was in the cards for me.”

“Well, strap in, because he wants to have more Trevelyans and soon.  He needs heirs.  I’m assuming he cares a great deal about you if he’s willing to risk being assassinated without heirs.”

Cassandra’s head snaps to her.  “Assassinated?  He never mentioned…”

“Apparently someone is going around trying to kill Trevelyans.  My father was murdered.  And people have tried to kill both me and him.  We can’t find who’s responsible.  If they succeed in killing both of us, then Ostiwck will be totally leaderless, well sort of, unless they pull someone from the Chantry or templars.”

“There’s no one else?”

Shea shakes her head.  “Leliana has sniffed out every single Trevelyan in Thedas.  They are either dead, red templars, or Chantry sisters.  The dead ones either died fighting or were murdered.  We’ve reached out to every company we can think of and they all claim not to have contracts on us, but someone clearly wants us out of the picture.”

“How safe is he right now?”

“Cullen sent him more of our people.  He has a small army of Inquisition forces protecting him.”

The Seeker sighs in relief.  “Maybe I should take some time to visit him.”

Shea pokes the fire with a stick, sending embers into the air.  “I would advise against it.  If the assassins don’t know that he’s with someone, then they have no reason to attack you too.  For your safety, I would say to keep your distance for now.  Once this Corypheus business is over, then we can send you up there with more troops and some of Leliana’s people to figure this out.  Because I for one don’t want to lead Ostwick.  Which means my brother needs to stay alive.”

“That seems a bit cold.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Moira narrows her eyes at Shea.  “I’d have to agree.  Seems like we’re not getting the full story here.”

“There’s a little bit of bad blood between us, that’s all.  We’re trying to work past it.”  She mentally thanks Iron Bull.  Being able to control her face while telling a half truth is super handy.

Moira shrugs, “I never saw any of that.”

“I didn’t become a thing until recently.”  Shea yawns.  “I’m going to bed.  It’s been a long trip and I look forward to getting back.”  She stands without waiting for a response and climbs into her tent.  She secures the flaps and crawls onto her bed roll.  She’s not tried in the slightest, but she needs to get away from the dangerous direction that conversation is taking.  She takes of the glove on her left hand and looks at her ring.  It glitters in the darkness and she smiles.

***

Shea’s first order of business upon returning to Skyhold is to check in on Cullen and Dagna’s progress.  Not even bothering to change into her uniform she heads for his office straight from the stables.  A month is enough time to find a solution right?  She takes the stairs two at a time.  She pushes his door open.  He doesn’t even have to look up to see who it is.  He just drops the report in his hand, moves past Jim, and scoops her up into a massive hug.  Her feet lift off the ground.

Jim looks around awkwardly, “Should I go?”

Cullen quickly kisses her and sets her down.  He walks back over to his desk and picks up the report.  “No, no.  We need to finish this.”  They resume their conversation.  Not wanting to just stand there, she crosses his office and pulls his chair from the desk.  She puts the books in it on the floor and sits down.  She leans back and kicks her feet up on his desk.  They both glance at her.  “Don’t mind me.  Pretend I’m not here.”

Cullen wants to be annoyed.  Her mud covered boots are making is desk dirty.  But he smirks down at her, “That’s a little hard to do, but I think we’ll manage.”  The two men work while Shea relaxes in his chair.  Dagna comes in before they get done talking about some troop related thing.  “We’ll have to continue this later, Jim.”  The scout salutes and leaves the office.  Shea takes her feet off his desk and stands.  While she makes her way towards Dagna, he uses blank piece of paper to wipe the mud off his desk.

Dagna holds out a piece of stone with a glowing red rune on it.  Shea takes it.  “What is this for?”

“The armor.  I reverse engineered a way to disable Samson’s armor.  Just direct it at him, touch the rune, and Bam!  No more red… stuff.”

Cullen chuckles, “You can say it now.”

“Ok good!  It destroys the red lyrium in his armor.  Making it nothing more than ordinary armor.”

Shea smiles at the dwarf.  “That’s great news!”

Cullen nods, “Nice work, Dagna!  This means we’ll be ready to move on the Arbor Wilds very soon.”

Shea looks over at him, “How soon?”

“As early as tomorrow.  I’ve already made all the preparations.  Just give the order and I’ll get the troops ready to go.  With all the work we’ve done, Samson’s army has been significantly curtailed.  Their access to red lyrium has been almost completely cut off.  And now he has a suit of armor he can’t maintain.  This is a true victory and I look forward to adding another one.”

Dagna smiles, “Well, my job’s done!  Time to take a much needed break!”

Cullen smirks, “Going to see Sera then?”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Only to those who are paying attention.”

Shea shrugs, “If it helps, I have no idea what he’s talking about.”  Dagna giggles and waves her good bye.  Shea turns her attention back to her fiancé, who is in a fantastic mood.  “Glad to see that your good mood has held out.”

“It’s even better now that you’re here.”

Shea sets the rune on his desk and walks over to him.  “Is that so?”

He brushes his fingers on her side.  “Absolutely.”  She runs her finger down his scar, something she realizes she hasn’t done in a while.  He flashes her favorite smirk. He cups her face and he brings his lips close to hers.  She can feel his warm breath on her face and her mouth waters to taste his tongue.  “Don’t we have a war meeting to get to?”

She groans, “Can’t we just stay here?  The Arbor Wilds will still be there tomorrow.”

“Love, I worry that we may already be too late.”

“Ugh, fine. Then kiss me so we can go.”  He brushes his lips against hers, but holds her face still so she can’t close the distance.  Her eyes close and her pulse races as he builds the anticipation.  He teases her again. Bringing his lips a breath away from hers, but not kissing her.  She squirms in his grasp and he smiles.  He backs away and drops his hands from her face.  Her eyes pop open.  “And where do you think you’re going?”

“We have a meeting.”

“Get back here and kiss me.”

He smirks, “Consider this incentive to finish your work early for the day.”  He opens his office over and starts across the bridge to the rotunda.  She groans, her lips tingling from their need to touch his.  She is starting to learn that when he is in a really good mood, he is a tease.  She licks her lips.  That single thought ignites a fire between her legs.  Warmth spreads through her and she wants nothing more than to tackle him.  She takes a few calming breaths and uproots her boots that are glued to the floor of his office.  She quickly leaves his office to follow him to the meeting.

***

The Inquisition marches at dawn.  The vast majority of their forces will be going to the Arbor Wilds, but they are leaving Cassandra roughly a hundred men to defend Skyhold.  Which considering the castle’s size isn’t a lot.  Shea doesn’t like the idea of leaving it so undefended, but she understands that the real battle will be the place their forces are needed the most.  Their numbers are far larger than they were at Adamant and with Celene’s troops adding support, Cullen is confident in their shift victory.

She runs up to her quarters to change into her uniform.  She needs a break from the armor.  Once changed, she makes her rounds about Skyhold, checking in with her inner circle before heading off to meet with Cullen.  Dorian and Bull are great, though she does watch Bull get attack by Qunari spies before he throws them off the battlements.  He is fine, naturally.  Sera is in good spirits, so good in fact that they have a date to prank the advisors and have cookies on the roof.  Blackwall is the same as always, brooding and not very talkative.  She hopes that will change when he finally gets everyone to forgive him.  Vivienne is her same old self.  She even hints that Shea should support her as the next Divine, she says she’d consider it which is a bold faced lie. Varric is thinking about writing a book about all this.  Cole is adjusting to his new life, feeling a little miserable and finding that people don’t forget him anymore, which makes helping people a little harder.  Cassandra is trying to figure out what to say to Brandon about the idea of possibly being his wife and wondering if she should return his gift.  Shea says she should keep it and that there is no rush to decide something he hasn’t even asked her yet.  Leliana feels inspired to do more good than ever.  She is excited that she might be Divine so that she can help rebuild the Chantry into something better.  Josie is busy and chipper.  She is thrilled that her family was free to trade in Orlais again, even though the solution isn’t exactly what she had in mind.

And then there is Solas.  A second chair has been added to his desk in the rotunda and Moira is sitting in it across from him.  They aren’t arguing.  In fact, they are quiet.  Both of them reading.  Shea stands in the doorway to watch them.  Occasionally, one of them would lean forward and point to something on a page.  Calm comments are made and then they go back to reading.  She doesn’t want to stir the pot there, so she leaves them alone.

With that done, she heads to Cullen’s office.  She is going to get the kiss she is owed.  When she pushes the door open, his office is full of people.  She recognizes them as his officers.  She closes the door quietly and leans against the wall.  She loves watching him work.  “Go ahead and move everyone to the valley.  Get the tents set up.  I want to be ready to move when the Inquisitor gives the order.  As to Rylen’s request, tell him we’ll send soldiers to…”  He spots her.  They make eye contact and she smirks.  “To assist him once we’ve finished in the Arbor Wilds.”  He sets the report in his hand on the desk and leans forward on his palms.  He hasn’t removed his eyes from hers since he found her there.  “That’ll be all.”

The officers salute, “Ser.”  They all walk out the door past her.  But she holds his gaze as he walks around his desk.  The first time he breaks their eye contact is when he closes the door behind them.  He presses his palms against the door and sighs, “There’s always something more, isn’t there?”

She chuckles, “Long day?”

He pushes away from the door and moves towards his desk.  “I thought I had done enough prep work so that I could just issue the order and that would it.  But I really shouldn’t complain.  This war won’t last forever.  I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

She follows him.  “I can go if you have more work to do.”

He stops and turns to face her.  He steps closer to her.  “No.  It’s fine.  They know what they need to do. But I was thinking about after the battle.  About this tournament slash announcement.  I’m not sure that’s the way to go anymore.”

“Oh?”

He rubs his neck and turns to face his desk.  “I think we should just do it as soon as we get back.  It’s going to take much longer for our forces to return than for us.  I think we should just… I mean that is… I don’t know how you feel about…”

She steps around him and leans back on the desk in front of him.  “Cullen.  Do you even have to ask?”

He chuckles, “I suppose not.”  They are both taken back to the moment in his office earlier.  His teasing her, her cheeks flushed, and her desire written all over her face.  He steps even closer to her, his legs press against hers.  His face coming closer, his warmth inviting her in.  Because she remembers their last meeting, she leans further back on the desk with her hands behind her to support her.  The look in his eye tells her that he wants her, but that he’s just getting started.  He brings his face closer to hers.  “Though I was wondering how you felt about…”  She tries to move away from his teasing, but her hand slips and knock a bottle of wine off the desk.

“Shit.”  She tries to catch it but is too held back by his proximity and it shatters on the floor.  “Damn it.  I’m sorry, Cullen.”  She meets his eyes.  She sees an idea register in them and he smirks.  He moves around her and in one large sweeping motion, completely clears the top of his desk.  Reports and books fly across the room or drift to the floor.  Ink wells and other glass items shatter.  The markers on his map clatter to the floor along with the map.  He moves back to her and picks her up by the waist to set her on the desk.

Then he climbs on it himself.  Hovering over her.  She scoots back and lays back as he crawls up her body.  She reaches for him, but he pins her arms above her head.  Her legs are trapped between his.  He leans down to kiss her.  When she stretches to reach him, he backs off.  She whimpers.  “You are in my office, Inquisitor.  My office, my rules.  Got it?”

The command in his voice sends liquid heat rushing through her veins where it pools between her thighs.  She bites her lip as she looks up at him.  She is already breathless due to the intensity of her arousal.  “Yes, ser.”

“If you do anything that you haven’t been ordered to do, then there will be reprimands.”

“Yes, ser.”

He sits back on his knees and looks down at her.  Her arms are still on the desk next to her head.  He hadn’t told her to move, so she doesn’t.  He smirks.  “Take off your shirt.”  She hands fly to the buttons of her shirt.  “Slower.”  Her ocean blue eyes burn into his as her hands move smoothly, slowly, expertly, to undo each button as slow as she possibly can.  It’s been so long since she has felt shy in front of him.  Maybe it’s his voice, his dominance.  Maybe it’s that they are in his office where all of Skyhold will hear them.  But as she unbuttons the last one she hesitates.  “Did I say stop?”

She sits up, her face nearly meeting his.  He pushes her back down.  “I didn’t say sit up.”

She exhales sharply, “How am I supposed to take my shirt off if I can’t sit up?  Ser.”

He hears the bite in her tone.  “Are you back talking your Commander?”

Her face heats, “No, ser.”

He grabs the back of her neck and makes her sit up again.  His grip is firm, but not painful.  She breathes heavily into his face.  “Continue.”  She swallows hard.  She shrugs out of her shirt.  Her chest heaves, her hard tips pressing against her breast band.  “Throw it by the door.”  She does as commanded.  “Now.  Remove your band.  Slowly.”  He keeps his grip firm on her neck.  Her fingers slowly unlace the front of her band and then it falls away.  “Throw it.”

As she does, the door flies open.  “Is everything alright?  We heard a crash!” Moira catches it before it hits her in the face.  She, Solas, and Jim are standing the doorway.  Cullen shoots them a death glare.

He growls.  “Get out.”  Moira drops the breast band and grabs Solas’ arm to pull him from the office.  Jim is too stunned to move.  His eyes are glued to Shea’s bare chest.  Shea can’t move.  She is in shock.  Her face is beat red and sweat beads up on her forehead.  She watches the veins in Cullen’s neck bulge as his rage builds.  The deep growl escapes his chest.  “Jim.  I said.  Get.  Out.  Now!”  Jim shakes his head, salutes, bows and slams the door behind him.

He turns back to her.  His eyes bore into hers.  His commanding attitude fades away for a moment when he sees the look on her face.  She looks embarrassed and stunned.  “You ok?”

“I... uh… yes, ser.”

He smirks.  He releases her neck.  “Remove my armor.”  His voice sends a shiver down her spine.  Her hands move slowly.  She pushes the cloak from his shoulders and unwraps the decorative fabric that covers the metal below it.  She unstraps the metal pieces and lets them clang to the floor.  She tugs at the laces of his shirt and pulls it over his head.  She pulls off the tank top and lets it fall to the floor as well.  She traces the outline of his cock through his pants.  He moans.  She rubs him a few times.  He places his hand on her chest and slams her down on her back.  The wind is knocked from her and she pants beneath his hand.  “Did I say you could touch me?”

“No.  I’m sorry, ser.”

He scratches his chin.  “What should your punishment be?” He pins her arms to the desk.  He brings his mouth over hers.  He gets close enough to almost kiss her.  She closes her eyes, begging in her mind from him to close the distance.  His hot breath brushes her face.  When he feels her try to arch towards his lips. he pulls away.  She whimpers and shifts her body beneath the weight of him.  “Stay put.”  He climbs off the desk and removes his boots and socks.  He stands next to the desk.  Her takes her hand and places it on his belt.  “Continue.”

She struggles to undo his belt with one hand.  She’s getting annoyed and turns her face to look at him, “Commander?”

“Did I say you could speak?”

She grumbles.  Punishment be damned.  She sits up, turns on the desk to face him with her legs hanging over the edge, and she grabs his waist band and pulls him forward.  She slowly undoes his belt and lets it and the sword attached fall to the floor.  She unlaces his pants.  Then he’s on her.  His knee is between her legs and one hand pins her wrists above her head.  “You just disobeyed a direct order.”

She pants against him.  She can feel his knee between her legs.  So close to touching her soft folds.  She has to fight the urge to scoot closer to his knee and grind against him.  His free hands hovers over her stomach.  She can feel the heat coming off it, but that’s it.  If she moves just a hair, his skin will make contact.  He is anticipating her reaction, of course.  When she arches her back to close the distance his hand moves with the motion.  Still never coming into contact with her.  She gently bangs her head on the desk in frustration.  “Commander.  Please.”  She begs him.

He releases one of her hands.  “Take off your pants.”  She moves her hand to the buttons on her pants and he watches her face as she struggles.  Her brows furrow and her eyes close.  The smolder in his eyes and that smug look on his face is making impossible for her to focus on the task assigned to her.  With a final tug, the buttons are undone.  She tries to edge the pants over her hips, but finds that she can’t.  She groans in frustration.  She bites her lip and opens her eyes.  She opens her mouth to express her failure, but she remembers the torture his teasing does to her and she closes her mouth.  She whimpers as she continues her struggle.

He smirks down at her.  He hovers his hand over her skin then drives it down the front of her pants.  She moans as he rubs her on the outside of her underwear.  “Maker, you’re wet.”  His voice nothing more than a low grumble, but is so loud in hear eyes he may as well be screaming.  He strokes her slowly feeling the wetness though the soft cloth.  She breathing picks up and her eyes flutter closed.  The hand he still has pinned balls into a fist.  She watches her fight the urge to move with his hand, but her need for him is written all over her.  She moans build in volume.  He smirks and removes his hand from her pants.  She whimpers and opens her eyes.  They beg him for release.

His member throbs and presses hard against the front of his pants.  He climbs off her and grabs her waistband with both hands.  He yanks her pants down pulling her off the desk slightly with the effort.  He pulls them and her boots off completely and tosses them behind him.  She lies panting on the desk with her feet now on the floor.  “Get up and come here.”  She slowly rolls forward until she’s is standing, trembling and flushed.  She takes a few small steps toward him.  He moves around her to lean back on the desk.  “Face me.”  She turns around.  “Undress me.”  She steps toward him.  Her eyes fall onto the bulge protesting against the fabric.  She licks her lips and slowly steps towards him.  Her hands hovers over his thighs as she goes for the waistband at his hips.  His head fall back due to the sensation.  She slowly eases his pants down and to the floor.  He lifts each foot to free them from his pants.  She runs her hands up his muscular legs.  Her hands slide his smalls down his legs, freeing his aching cock from its confines.  Once he is naked, she runs his hands up his legs again.  His arm surrounds her waist and spins her around.  He puts her back on the desk and pushes her down onto her back.

She releases what she did.  “I’m sorry, ser.”

“I don’t think you are.”  She spreads her arms out to the side.  She closes her eyes and waits for her punishment.  His hands slide up her legs.  She sighs with pleasure and relief at the actual contact.  He pushes her legs apart and she hears him hum.  “Mmmm.”  His runs his finger against her warm middle.  “We’ve soaked your smalls.”  She moans as his hand presses against her.  “How much do you want me?”

“I want you so badly.  I ache to feel you touch me.  I would do anything to have you fuck me.”

She hears him chuckle.  He removes his hand from her and she whines.  He sits next to her on the desk.  He leans back on his hands.  “Get up and kneel in front of me.”  She quickly sits up.  Her fingers brush the side of his leg as she stands.  She places her hands on his knee as she lowers herself to the ground.  She folds her hands in her lap as she looks up at him, waiting for his next command.  She never liked being ordered around, but for some reason, this whole exchange is really doing it for her.  “Suck my dick.”

She smirks, “With pleasure, ser.”  She moves closer to him.  She grazes her fingers along his engorged penis.  “You’re so hard, ser.”  She licks the arousal from slit in his head and he moans.

He looks down at her as she teases him with her hands and tongue.  A little payback for him teasing her earlier.  He clears his throat and she looks up at him.  “No hands.”

“As you wish, ser.”  She clasps her hands behind her back.  It’s difficult to tease him when it moves every time her licks it.  So, she gives him what he wants.  She kisses his tip before slowly sliding him between her lips.  His head falls back and he moans.  She moves her head up and down his length, taking more of him in each time.  She looks up at him.  His eyes are closed and his head is tilted back.  She can’t take this waiting anymore.  She slides her fingers down the front of her smallclothes and gently massages her firm nub.  She hums and moans over him as she sucks and licks him.

She can feel herself reaching her end.  She closes her eyes and moves her mouth on him with building intensity.  He looks down to watch her.  He sees what she’s doing to herself.  He grabs the back of her head and makes her look up at him.  “Who gave you permission to do that?”

“Commander. Please.  I’m so close.”

“Alright.  You get to decide how this is going to go.  Stop now and I won’t reprimand you.  Continue and I get to do as I please.”

Her pulse quickens.  She needs this or she’s going to go insane.  Her hand resumes pleasuring herself.  This is her answer.  He smirks.  “Open your mouth.”  She does and he drives himself as far as he can get it into her mouth.  His massive erection blocks her airways.  He pulls it out and she gasps for breath.   He quickly checks her eyes to see if that was ok.  Seeing that she hasn’t moved to stop him and her mouth is still open, he takes that to mean she’s ok.  With his hand still on the back of her head, he controls her as she sucks him.  He recognizes the sign in her that she is about to send herself over the edge.  He slowly brings her head down over him, slides every single inch of him in your mouth and down her throat.  Her body spasms and she grips his thigh with her free hand.  She pushes against him slightly and he releases her head.  She removes him completely from her mouth as she gasps for air and finishes riding out her orgasm.

She rolls onto the floor, still breathing heavy.  His cock drips with her saliva. Once she has regained herself, she looks up at him.  She is officially done being bossed around.  She slowly stands and then pushes him back on the desk.  She crawls on top of him and pins his arms above his head.  He is surprised at the turn of events.  “What do you think you’re doing?”

Her voice takes on the same commanding tone she gets when she issues orders and she wants no one to question them.  “Commander.  Did you really think you could order me to do anything?  I am the Inquisitor.  And I will have the respect I deserve.  Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Will you follow my orders, Commander?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smirks down at him.  She rolls the side of him and lays on her back.  “Undress me, Commander.”

He rolls on top of her.  He kisses her neck and she pushes him back.  “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.  Did I give you permission to touch me?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Whatever am I to do with this subordination?”  She pushes him off her and he stands.  She sits up and looks him up and down.  She needs to think fast as to what she should do to punish him.  She gets an idea and hopes it won’t turn him off.  “Palms on the desk.”  He does and she stands.  She moves behind him and takes in the view of his perfect butt.  _I hope I’m not going too far with this._   She smacks him hard on his ass.  He moans and his head falls forward.  She sighs with relief.  “Now do as you’re told.”

He chokes out his response.  “Yes, ma’am.”  He turns to face her and does down to his knees.  He hooks his finger into the waist band of her underwear and slowly pulls them down.  She steps out of them.  She runs her nails across his scalp and down his neck as she walks around him.  She leans on the desk and watches him breathe while she thinks of what she wants him to do next.

“Face me, Commander.”  He stays on his knees and turns around to face her.  His eyes drink in her naked body.  He licks his lips.  Every beautiful curve is exposed to him and from his view of the floor, he can see her arousal dripping between her thighs.  She shifts her potion and opens her legs.  His fingers grip his thighs.  His muscle tense as he retrains himself.  “Do you want me, Commander?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Tell me.”

He looks into her eyes.  “Inquisitor.  I want to… taste every part of you.  I want to make your screams echo through Skyhold.  But more than anything, I want to fuck you on my desk.”

She grins at him.  She leans back on the desk and opens her legs wide.  He has an unobstructed view of her center.  His mouths waters and his body aches to get closer.  “Then come, Commander.  Take want you want.”  His scrambles forward.  She moans as his mouth lands on his target.  His tongue runs between her soft folds.  He puts her legs over his shoulder.  He kneels before her, worshipping his goddess, his Inquisitor.  She grabs the back of his head to hold him between her legs. He licks, sucks, kisses, and nibbles her sensitive flesh as a starving man might eat bread.  Or a man dying of thirst might drink water.  Her moans loud and constant.

His fingers join the fray.  His traces her opening, teasing her slightly, before sliding two of them deep inside her.  She cries his name, her walls instantly squeezing around him.  She leans up to watch him.  She notices his muscular arm moving.  She grinds her hips against his face and hand.  She grabs a fist full of his hair and pulls his mouth from her.  His eyes meet hers, but his fingers keep moving.  She moans and the cries out again before she can say anything. 

He knows he’s about to be punished.  It’s the whole reason he even started touching himself.  He slides his fingers from her and licks them clean.  “Palms on the desk.”  He stands and does as he is instructed.  She slides off the desk.  Her knees are a little weak, so she places a hand on his back as she circles him.  She smacks his ass and he moans.  She smacks him again and he inhales sharply.  He lets out a ragged breath.

“Inquisitor, if you do that again, I might be not be able to…”

She spins him around.  The game is over.  She throws her arms around his neck and wraps her legs around his waist.  She kisses him with a burning force.  He walks with her to the narrow part of the desk and sets her down.  She lays back and pulls him with her.  Their lips locked together.  He moves with her until they are in the center of the desk.  With her legs still securely wrapped around him, he thrusts forward, driving himself deep.  She moans and her back arches.  He uses one hand to support himself and to other to fondle her breast.  Pinching her tender nipples.  Her mouth breaks from his as her head falls back.  He kisses her neck.  His thrusts are fast, hard, and deep.  Her cries are loud and breathy at the same time.

She opens her eyes to see that he is watching her face.  Something clicks in her head that she isn’t expecting in this moment.  The words are bubbling inside her and she realizes now why she could never say those three little words.  Because she knows that the moment she lets them out, she’d want to say them all the time.  If they are trying to keep things secret, then saying those words to him would make that impossible.  She isn’t sure why her brain has taken this moment of carnal pleasure to put things into perspective, but her mind decides to reveal more things to her as her body is ravaged by the man she loves.

 _“It is the fear of the unknown that keeps us from learning about things we know nothing about.  It is only through determination that we can overcome these fears to truly experience all that life has to offer.”_   A new desire fills her with an emotion deeper than she can even comprehend.  She wants to give this man everything.  Every desire, every goal, every want, and every need.

She places her hand on the sides of his face.  “Cullen.”

He looks into her eyes as he continues to grind and move inside her.  “Yes?”

“I love you.”

He stops moving.  “Shea.  You’ve never actually…”

“I know.  But you’ve known it’s true.  I love you.”

He kisses her.  “I love you, too.”

The smile on his face is blinding.  So much light is shining from his face.  His eyes glow in the darkness.  Flood gates open and she lets her thoughts spill out her mouth.  “Maker.  I love you more than any person is probably capable of.  I want to give you everything.”

“You already have.”

“All except one thing.”

“And what is that?”

She pulls herself up so that her mouth is next to his ear.  “I want to bare your child.”

“But I thought…”

“Don’t ask questions now.  Just…”  She moves her hips to encourage him.

“You mean now?”  She kisses him and rocks her hips.  He moves against her.  He moves inside her with renewed interest.  The motions are slow, passionate.  She can feel his hesitation.  He desperately wants what she is saying to be true, but he dares not hope.  What if this is just the euphoria she is feeling right now dictating her words.  She presses her palms into his back.

“Yes.  Now.  Oh Cullen.”  Her walls close around him and she cries out.  “Please.”

He gives into to his desires.  His needs to be the father of her children.  To be tied to her forever.  To give into the things he wants so desperately he could never find the proper way to express them.  Things he never thought he would have.  Joining the Inquisition, meeting her, being with her, and having a future with her, free of the burdens of his past, free of his chains and his demons because of her.  He makes one final desperate thrust and his body releases into hers.  Warmth spreads through the both of them.  She screams his name as he screams hers.  The sound echoes off the nearby mountains.  As if the Frostbacks are just as happy in this moment as they are.

He rests his forearms on either side of her head and lets his weight settle down on her.  Little aftershocks ripple through the both of them.  He tenderly kisses her.  She pushes the sweaty curls from his forehead and trails his scar with her thumb.  He copies her action.  Tucking the hair behind her ear.  Their hot, slick skin pressed firmly together.

She kisses him and caresses his face.  “I love you.”

He smirks, “I will never tire of hearing you say that.”

He rolls onto his side on the desk.  He starts laughing uncontrollably.  She presses her legs together and rolls to face him.  “Something funny?”

“Not at all.  I’m just so damn happy.”  She brushes her fingers along his jawline and she just watches him laugh.  “Well, one thing is funny.”

“And that would be?”

“I’m going to have to clean my office before we leave.”

She laughs.  “You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do.  I’m very particular about it.”

“So, I’ve noticed.”

“Says the woman who put her muddy boots on my desk just earlier today.”

She laughs again.  “I’m sorry.  I wasn’t thinking.”

He kisses her.  “I cleaned it, so it’s fine.”

He pulls her to his chest.  She chuckles, “So are we sleeping on your desk now?”

He sits up.  “Probably not the best idea.”  He stands up and offers her his hand.  “Mind the glass.”

She chuckles and carefully steps onto the floor.  She gathers up her clothes and folds them neatly.  He holds out his hands and she hands them to him.  He quickly climbs the ladder to his loft with one hand holding her clothes.  He slides back down and they gather his armor.  She passes the pieces up to him once he climbs up.  His office is still a mess but that should be good for now.  She climbs the ladder to his loft.  It’s much nicer than the last time she saw it.  The roof has been patched and the bed doesn’t look like it came with the building.  He pulls back the covers and motions for her to get in.  She lays down and he covers her up.  He goes around the bed and climbs under the covers.  He rolls onto his side to face her and she rolls to face him.  He pulls her close to his chest and surrounds her with his arms.

“So, quick thought.  Since you asked me to bare my child tonight, I’m assuming that means you didn’t get pregnant from our tent session.”

“Correct.  With everything going on, it sort of slipped my mind to tell you.  Sorry.”

“It’s fine.  Are you worried that tonight will take?”

“Should I be?”

He sighs, “If it does… you’ll be pregnant when you face Corypheus.”

She bites her lip.  “Shit.  I didn’t even think about that.  I wonder how the mark will effect an unborn child.”

“That’s a very good question.  We should talk to Morrigan about it.”

“Why her?”

“She’s a mage who has had a child.  This child also has ancient magic in his veins.  If anyone might know it would be her.”

“We can do that once we know for sure.”  He kisses her forehead.  His mind is racing.  It is already going to be hard to send her to face him again when the time came, but if she were with child, he didn’t think he would be able to let her go.  She starts to go limp in his arms.

“I love you, Cullen.”

“I love you too, Shea.”

She can hear the worry in his voice, but she is too exhausted to ask him about it.  She falls asleep secure in his arms.  For some reason, his mind drifts to Danielle.  What happens when a Warden has a child?  He vaguely remembers someone saying once that Wardens had a hard time having kids, because the taint in their blood made them infertile.  He hopes there is a way around that for the rulers of Ferelden.  A past discussion with Danielle had revealed her desire to be a mother one day and he hopes becoming a Warden hasn’t robbed her of that.

He looks down at Shea’s sleeping face.  He tries to imagine what their children would look like.  He never gave himself the opportunity before because she didn’t want them before and it would break his heart to imagine them when he wouldn’t ever get to find out if he was right.  He closes his eyes and as sleep falls over him, he pictures a small child with ocean blue eyes and curly hair swinging a tiny wooden axe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think! Also, anyone have an opinion on Moira? I'd love to hear what you guys think of her since she's an OC!
> 
> UPDATED July 25, 2018


	61. Gods & Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long on lol
> 
> *** time/pov shift

Cullen lets Shea sleep in.  He knows she’ll be angry, but honestly he doesn’t really need to march with his men.  Men on foot take twice as long to travel and they could easily catch up on horseback.  He issues the order to move out before she can stop him.  All morning people were either making knowing eye contact with him or quickly looking away.  Normally, this kind of attention would have embarrassed and bothered him, but he is in such a good mood, that he can’t be bothered.  He returns their stares with a bright smile.

He even opts to have breakfast in the tavern like a normal person.  He grabs a plate from the bar and plops down between Krem and Bull.  “Good morning, gentlemen.”

Krem chuckles and takes a sip from his cup, “Cat’s out of the bag then?”

Cullen shrugs and spears a piece of fruit with his fork.  “I suppose it is.”

Bull laughs, “Jim has been talking all morning.  You’re lucky the man can’t draw.”

Cullen laughs, “I think the funniest part of that was Solas’s face.  Moira had to drag him away.”

The three of them laugh as Blackwall sits down.  “Commander.  I’m surprised you’re awake.  I’m surprised I’m awake.”

Cullen chuckles, “I suppose you had it worse than anyone else.  My apologies.”

Blackwall chuckles, “Well, at least she had a good time.”

Dorian sits across from Cullen.  “So, I hear Skyhold got an encore of our trip to the Shrine?”

“I think you might be the only person who even had to ask.”

Dorian laughs.  “It was rhetorical.  I’m sure even the people in the undercity heard you last night.  At first, I thought you might be killing her.”

Blackwall laughs, “How would you know?  That’s what women sound like.”

Bull grins, “Only when it’s good.”

They hear a disgusted noise.  Cassandra sits down.  “Men.  You should all be ashamed of yourselves.  What the Commander and the Inquisitor do on their own time is not our business.”

Blackwall laughs, “I couldn’t sleep last night because of all that noise.  So, that makes it my business.”

Dorian leans forward, “What were you doing to her anyway?  People are talking about glass breaking and your office being destroyed.”

“You mean Jim is talking about it.”

“Well… yes.”

“Commander, don’t answer that question.”  They all turn to see Shea standing in the doorway of the tavern.  “I hate to have to reprimand you.”  He turns bright red and rubs his neck.  She smirks and motions for Krem to scoot over.  She sits next to him and squeezes his thigh under that table.  “Just so every knows.  I’m calling a meeting in the throne room at noon.  I have an announcement.  Don’t give me that look.  It’s good news!”

Cullen glances over at her and she winks at him.  He smiles and looks back down at his food.  She reaches over to his plate and takes a piece of sausage.  “You could get you own plate you know?”

“Yes, but yours is closer.”

He moves his plate in front of her and hands her his cup of water.  He gets up to grab another plate.  Bull makes a whipping noise as he passes.  Shea reminds herself to keep her left hand out of sight.  No need to ruin the surprise.  Cullen returns and sits down.  He reaches over and takes a piece of sausage from her plate.  “That’s to make up for the one you stole.”

Krem pokes a spot on her neck and she hisses.  “Looks like you’ve got a souvenir.”

Cullen pulls her collar back.  He doesn’t remember biting her.  Turns out it’s a hand print.  “Shit.  I’m sorry, love.”

“Well, it didn’t hurt until someone poked it.”  She shoots a look at Krem that makes him choke on his drink.

Jim comes into with a report and his faces flushes when he sees Shea.  His eyes fall to her chest.  She laughs, “My eyes are up here, Jim.”

Everyone at the table laughs, except Cullen.  Jim hands him the report.  He reads it.  “The Orlesian forces are setting up camp in the Arbor Wilds.  Everything will be set up by the time the troops arrive.”  Jim is still standing there staring at her chest.  “Maker’s breath, Jim.  Stop staring at the Inquisitor like that.”

He salutes and backs away, “Sorry, ser.”  Jim flees the tavern.

Shea looks over at Cullen, “Poor guy acts like he’s never seen a pair of breasts before.”

Cullen chuckles, “He probably hasn’t.”

Bull laughs.  “Someone should fix that!”

Shea shakes her head, “Don’t look at me.  I’ve done my part.”

Cullen finishes his plate and stands.  He looks down at Shea.  “See you at the meeting?”

She laughs, “Well, I’d better.”  He bends down and kisses her.  It is so nice to be able to do that without shame or hiding.  She likes it so much that she pulls him back down to kiss him again before he smirks and leaves.

Dorian leans forward, “Just answer me one question.”

She sighs, “I’m probably going to regret this, but fine.”

“Who cleared the desk?”

They all look at her.  She pushes back from the table and stands. “He did.”  There are gasps, laughter, and a few cheers.  She smiles and saunters out of the tavern.

***

Shea is sitting in her throne waiting for everyone to gather in the throne room for her announcement.  Leliana, Josephine, and Cassandra are standing together on one side of the throne, the rest of her inner circle on the other.  People are still piling into the hall.  Villagers, nobles, and a little of everyone else.  Except the soldiers who are on patrol.  The only person she wants to see is Cullen, who hasn’t made his way from wherever he is.  She makes eye contact with Jim and motions for him to approach.  He casts his eyes to the ground so he doesn’t look at her.  “Would you please go see what is taking the Commander so long?  And please be quick about it.”  He salutes and pushes through the crowd.  Her left hand is still in her pocket.  She drums the fingers of her right hand on the arm rest.

The hall is now full, save the thin aisle down the center.  Jim comes back towards her.  “He sends his apologies.  He lost track of time and will be here shortly.”

She groans, “Did he give you an idea of time?  We can’t start this without him,”

“I’ll go find out.”  He scampers off.

Cassandra walks up to her.  “Should we start without him?”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

She sighs, “You’ll see.  If he ever shows up.”

She’s starting to worry that maybe he won’t show up.  She did sort of spring this on him.  He wanted to do it after they got back.  But she just couldn’t wait anymore.  After everyone hearing them last night, her finally saying she loved him, and them trying to have a baby, it didn’t feel right to wait.  She nibbles on her thumbnail.  What would she say to all these people if he didn’t show up?

Jim comes towards her.  “He’s headed this way.”

“Thank you, Jim.”

She relaxes a little.  What was taking him so long?  She sees him approaching through the crowd.  People whisper as he passes.  She stands and has to stop herself from running head long towards him.  He was getting ready.  His is out of his armor.  He is wearing black boots and pants, a tucked in white long sleeved shirt, a belt with his sword strapped to it.  But must noticeably of all, his hair wasn’t slicked back.  It is curled and messy, the way she likes it.  He steps in front of her and whispers.  “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

She whispers back.  “I wish you had told me.  I would have changed too.”

He smirks, “Should you do this or should I?”

“Together?”

He nods.  Cullen goes to stand beside her throne and she steps forward.  She clears her throat to quiet the murmuring.  Once it’s quiet, she speaks loudly, “Members of the Inquisition, distinguished guests, and friends.  I’ve gathered you all here before we set forth to the Arbor Wilds, not as the Inquisitor, but as Shea Trevelyan of Ostwick.  You all are like an extended family to me and I wanted to be able to share some happy news in these trying times.”  She extends her hand towards Cullen.  He takes it and stands beside her.

“The Inqui… Lady Trevelyan and I have gathered you all here to make a very special,” he looks over at her, “and personal announcement.”  Dorian pulls a handkerchief his sleeve and dabs his eyes.  He already knows what’s coming.  Cassandra places her hand over her heart.  Cole is already smiling, because he’s known since day one.  Moira claps her hand over her mouth, tears are already streaming down her face.  “Roughly three months ago, I asked Lady Trevelyan to marry me.  She said yes.” 

Shea pulls her left hand from her pocket and holds it up in the air.  “We’re engaged!”

The room erupts with cheers.  Someone starts a kiss chant.  Shea looks over at Bull and Sera, knowing full well they started it.  Cullen pulls Shea into his arms.  She throws her arms around his neck.  They lips meet and the cheering gets louder.  But to them it gets quieter.  They nearly lose themselves in this very public kiss.  Josephine buzzing in their ears, asking a million questions, pulls them back to reality.  He brushes his nose against hers and laces his fingers with hers.  They are being pulled in a bunch of directions.  Her inner circle has surrounded them.  All of them asking questions.  There are too many questions for them to answer.  The hall begins to clear as an impromptu celebration starts in the courtyard.  They firmly grip each other’s hand so that they can’t be separated.  The girls are fawning over Shea’s outstretched left hand, studying the ring.  They complement his taste like he isn’t even there.  She leans over to him, “Guess we’ll be trying to catch up to your men tomorrow.”

He chuckles, “I guess so.”

Eventually the excitement of their friends dies down.  Josephine wants to throw a huge party, but they tell her no and to save it for after they defeat Corypheus.  Cullen has another surprise for her.  He leads her into her quarters to escape the crowd.  “I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

He leads her up the stairs.  The room has been rearranged slightly.  The armor racks have been moved to the corner in front of the stairs.  The bed has been replaced by a large four post bed with lots of pillows as well as curtains.  Next to her wardrobe is a second, matching wardrobe.  Her sitting area has expanded to include her couch and two matching chairs.  They have been shifted to be centered in front of the fireplace.  A large rug now covers the floor.  Her desk has been shifted to sit on a diagonal.  It forms a triangle with her bookshelves which are now stuffed with books.

“What is all this?”

He smirks, “Can’t you tell?  I’ve moved in.”

She gasps, “Really?”  He pulls her to the new wardrobe and opens the doors.  All of his clothes are in it, along with a few new ones.  Josephine’s doing no doubt.  “I didn’t know you owned so many.”

“I try to keep them away from you, so you won’t steal them all.  But as long as they get put back, you are welcome to everything I have now.  I took the liberty of upgrading some things.  I hope that’s ok.”

“It looks great!  I didn’t realize you had some many books.”

He laughs, “Those are the ones from my personal collection.  Well, the ones I could replace after Haven.”

“You mean you had more than that?”

“Yep.  I’m an avid reader.”

“First casual gardening and now avid reading?  What else don’t I know about you?”

He smirks.  “Not sure.  I suppose you’ll find out since we’re living together now.”

“I feel like I should move my office somewhere else.”

“Why?”

She shrugs, “Just doesn’t feel like our home should also be where I work.”

“I’m not bothered by if you aren’t.  Granted it might be harder for you to focus while I’m up here with you.”

She laughs, “True.  Any other changes I should know about?”

He looks around, “No.  I think this is it.”

She hugs him.   He wraps his arms around her and nuzzles her neck.  “I love you so much.”

He smiles.  “Come, my love.  I’m sure that we are needed downstairs.  We need to work on reining Josephine in, or she’s going to go behind our backs and plan an engagement party.”

“She already said she wasn’t going to.”

“And you believed her?”

“Touché.”

He leads her back down the stairs, their hands still firmly linked together.

***

By the time the Inquisition arrives in the Arbor Wilds, Orlesians troops are already fighting.  Cullen wastes no time ordering half his men to advance on the enemy while the other half sets up camp.  While Orlais has done a lot of work, they also brought trebuchets.  Cullen whispers to Shea, “We’re in a fucking forest.  Why the hell do we need trebuchets?”

He is in a good mood despite being annoyed with Orlesians.  She playfully shoves him, “Get to work, Commander.”

He smirks and salutes her.  “Yes, ma’am.”  He turns on his heel and goes off to where his men are setting up.

She stands back with her arms crossed watching everyone buzz around.  She soon finds out that the Orlesians have been fighting elves and not red templars.  They bring her one of the bodies and it doesn’t look like any elf she has ever seen.  Good thing she brought her elven experts.  She walks up to them.  Again, they aren’t arguing.  They have a map of the area between them and are drawing out every piece of ruin they find on it.  “I didn’t realize you two were into cartography.”

Moira smiles up at her, “Are you kidding?  Do you have any idea where we are?!”

“Do enlighten me.”

She hands Solas the map so he can continue drawing.  She points down a path cut into a large hallow tree.  “These woods are ancient.  Untouched by anyone, shems or our people, for ages.  It was long thought that this temple had been destroyed along with rest, but it hasn’t.  It’s still here!  The Temple of Mythal!”

Solas stands and folds the map in his hands.  He sticks it and the pencil in his pocket.  “Have you seen the elves that have been fighting the Orlesians?”

Shea nods, “That’s actually why I came over here.  They don’t look like an elf I’ve ever seen.”

“We have two working theories on that.  One being that these elves are descendants of the ancient elves who protected this temple.  Cut off from the rest of the world for generations.”

Moira nods, “Or these _are_ ancient elves.  In a magic induced sleep and are pulled from that sleep when their forest is disturbed.”

“The only way we’ll know for sure is if we can get them to talk to us.  Though they seem to be the kill first ask questions later types.”

A horn is blown.  Shea turns from them and heads towards Cullen.  Her blood chills at the memory of the first time she heard that horn.  Red templars were attacking Haven.  Solas and Moira are following her.  Cullen meets her as she approaches his command tent.  “Inquisitor.  Scouts have just spotted Samson and his men entering the forest.  They are headed right for the temple.  The Orlesians and our forces are already fighting these elves.  I’m sending in the rest of my men to try to flank Samson.  With luck we should be able to stop him from reaching it.”

“Will you be joining them, Commander?”

He looks into her eyes.  Though her face doesn’t reflect her emotion, her eyes do.  She is scared.  He isn’t completely sure why.  The men are well trained and so far causalities are extremely low.  He steps closer to her.  “I will be leading them, love.  It’s my job.”

“I know.  I just have this gut feeling that…”

He presses his finger against her lips. “Everything will go as planned.  Even if he makes it to the temple, we will have cleared you a path to it, so that you can go in and do what you do best.  We’ll be fine.  I’ll be fine.”  The horn sounds again.  “That’s my cue.  I love you.”

She throws her arms around his neck and kisses him.  “I love you, too.  Now, go make my job easier.” He smirks and kisses her again.  He turns to go lead his men and she smacks his ass.  He smiles at her over his shoulder before running off.

There is nothing to do now but wait for Cullen to give them the signal that they are ready for her.  She sits with those that are coming with her to the temple, Solas, Moira, Morrigan, Cole, and Blackwall. Solas and Moira whisper to each other about the things they might find in the temple.  It seems to Shea that whatever animosity they had towards each other has morphed into something resembling respect.  She makes a mental note to talk to Moira about that.  A horn sounds.  “Alright. Let’s go.”

She leads them through the forest.  Even with Cullen trying to clear the path, she still has to fight red templars, a few Gray Wardens, and these strange elves.  She learns that Leliana and her scouts have also joined the fighting when she happens upon them taking out some stragglers in some ruins.  When she reaches Cullen at the head of the group, just before the entrance to the temple, she freezes on top of the ruined wall, her axe buried deep into an enemy archer.  His back is to her as he fights someone he probably used to know.  A massive red templar, who roars and swings wildly at him.  It has been so long since she’s actually watched him fight that she forgot how skilled he is.  She sees movement below her.  She looks down to see an elf trying to sneak up on him.  She yanks her axe out of the archer, takes a few steps back from the ledge, then takes a running leap off the wall.  Her axe held high in the air.  Cullen downs the red templar and turns at the sound of her roar.  She nearly splits the elf in half as her strike lands on his head.  She straightens from where she landed and smiles at him.  “You really need to learn to guard your flanks, Commander.”

“And rob you of your heroic moment?”

He sees an enemy over her shoulder at the same time she sees one over his.  They charge past each other.  Fighting back to back as they had that very first day.  He gets shoved into her as an elf pops out of the shadows.  She looks at him over her shoulder.  He kicks the elf in the chest sending him flying.  Then he looks back at her.  She smirks, “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”  He quickly kisses her before turning his attention back to the fight.

Once this battle is over, he points toward the temple.  “We tried to stop him, but he was ready for us.  Do you have the rune?”

“Of course.”

“I wish I could go with you.”

She places her hand on his chest.  He leans down to rest his forehead on hers.  “I know you do, but you are needed here.  The forces are scattered throughout the forest.  You need to get them regrouped.  So, they aren’t picked off one by one.  As far as I could see, we haven’t lost anyone.”

“That’s what I’m hearing.  Though this is a harder battle than we anticipated.”

“Who knew we’d be fighting two armies?”  She presses up on her toes and kisses him.  “I’ll see you when I get back.”

“You better come back.”

She kisses him quickly and rushes off with her group to the temple.

***

She clasps her hand over her mouth.  _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._   There has is, the big bad boss himself.  Samson is standing right next to him.  Shea fights to lock herself down.  The mark flares for the first time in months.  It takes her by surprise so it is a good thing she has already covered her mouth to keep the sounds of panic inside.  She isn’t ready to face him yet.  Cole reaches forward and squeezes her left hand tightly.  Blocking the light bursting from it and trying to help with the pain.  They listen to him talk about the Well of Sorrows, not an Eluvian, and then he tries to force his way past the temple guards.  They watch in shock as the temple’s defenses burn into his flesh causes it to melt away.  Then he explodes, killing the elves on the bridge and at least half his people.  Shea watches Samson flee with those men across the bridge and into the temple.

She vaults over the railing and the others follow.  They move slowly, making sure they are dead and not just knocked out.  Blackwall calls out, “We’ve got a live one.”  They all turn to him and he stands near a kneeling Gray Warden.  A thick black substance erupts from him and his body shakes violently.  They slowly back away from him.  Shea inhales sharply as the Warden starts to shift his shape into the all too familiar features of Corypheus.  Then a roar from above makes her heart drop further.  “Run!  Across the bridge!  Now!”  They all bolt across the bridge as the dragon bares down on them.  Shea is the last one in and they push hard against the doors.  They close it and a magic seal activates as the dragon’s fire hits the door. Shea sinks to the floor rubbing her palm.  She looks around at the group as they pant from their sprinting.  All present and accounted for.

Moira is the first to break the silence, “Was that him?  And if so, how the fuck did he come back to life?”

Morrigan touches the door causing the blue magic to ripple.  “I have heard that the souls of the Old Gods pass from one blighted creature to another.  It’s how the Wardens are able to kill archdemons.  It seems that Corypheus uses his connection to them to extend his life.”

Shea rubs her palm as the mark begins to calm.  “Does that make him… immortal?”

Morrigan turns to face her.  “There must be a way to stop that from happening, but none of that matters if they gain whatever it is they seek.”

“Which is whatever the Well of Sorrows is and not an Eluvian.”

“I was wrong, yes.”

Shea pushes off the ground.  “Then we need to get there first.  Let’s go.”

They explore the temple, Solas and Moira trying to drink in as much information as they can.  Both of them arguing with Morrigan about various aspects of elven culture.  When they catch up to Samson, he smiles at Shea.  His vile face already savoring his victory.  He orders his men to attack.  Both Venatori and Red Templars.  They fight their way through them and watch Samson blow a hole in the temple and jump down.

She is moments away from jumping after him when Morrigan stops her.  “Wait!”

“What?”

“The way through is that way.  I’m sure they would have used it if they could.  We should complete the rituals as we did before.”

Solas nods, “I would have to agree with the witch.  If you’ll notice the elves that protect this place haven’t attacked us since we entered.”

Moira looks at him, “And you think it’s because we did that ritual before?”

“Yes?”

Cole furrows his brows, “Our people are being hurt.  We should just jump down so that we can help them faster.”

Morrigan motions towards the door.  “That is the way. I am sure of it.  And… I read more at the first ritual than I let on.  It said that whomever takes the well gains a great boon, but at a cost.  A cost I am more than willing to pay.”

“Why are you saying this now?”

“I thought you should now.  Whatever this boon it is worth taking before Corypheus gets his hands on it.”

Shea groans, “We can discuss that later.  We need to beat Samson first.  We’ll do the rituals.  Maybe by doing so we can get these elves on our side.”  She leads the way to the first one.

***

Shea is all too happy when she disables Samson’s armor and kicks his ass.  Then she sees the elf, Abelas, rushing towards the well with the bird form of Morrigan flying right behind him.  She’s still mad that Morrigan just left them to go after her prize.  They chase them, leaving an unconscious Samson laying on the ground.  Morrigan reforms blocking the ancient elf from the glittering pool.

“You heard his parting words, Inquisitor.  The elf means to destroy the Well of Sorrows!”

Abelas turns to face her.  She is one who has followed their customs, unlike Morrigan.  Shea can feel that though he is angry and defeated, he respects her.  “So the sanctum is despoiled at last.”  Abelas sneers at Morrigan and backs away.

“You would have destroyed the Well yourself, given the chance.”

He sneers at her again, “To keep it from your _grasping_ fingers!  Better it be lost than bestowed upon the _undeserving_!”

“Fool!  You’d let your people’s legacy rot in the shadows!”

Shea holds up her hand and steps around Morrigan.  “That’s enough.”

“But Inquisitor…”

“I said that’s enough!”

“The Well clearly offers power, Inquisitor. If the power can be turned against Corypheus, can you afford not to us it?”

Abelas shakes his head, “Do you even know what you ask?”  He faces the pool.  “As each servant of Mythal reached the end of their years, they would pass their knowledge on… through this.”  He turns back to face Shea, “All that we were.  All that we knew.  It would be lost forever.”

Shea’s voice is gentle.  She understands how painful this is for him.  Possibly for Moira and Solas too.  “Is it better for the knowledge collected there, the hundreds... thousands of years of collecting…  You would prefer it to never be passed on?  To be destroyed?”

Solas steps forward, “There are other places, friend.  Other duties.  Your people yet linger.”

He sneers at Solas.  “Elvhen such as you?”

“Yes.  Such as I.”

Moira stands next to him, “And me.”

Abelas sighs.  He looks at the pool and then back at Shea, “You have shown respect to Mythal, and there is a righteousness in you that I cannot deny.  Is that your desire?  To partake of the Vir’abelasan as best you can, to fight your enemy?”

Shea looks at the pool.  Cole said it was loud and cold.  How many voices lived in this water?  “Only with your permission.”

“One does not obtain permission.  One obtains the right.”  He turns to walk back to the temple.  “The Vir’abelasan may be too much for a _mortal_ to comprehend.”  He turns back and looks Shea dead in the eyes.  “Brave it if you must, but know you this: you shall be bound forever to the will of Mythal.”

Morrigan scoffs, “Bound?  To a goddess who no longer exists, if she ever did?”

Moira hisses at her.  Solas stops her from charging.  Abelas nods to Moira who calms down.  “Bound, as we are bound.  The choice is yours.”

Shea steps forward to act a buffer between Moira and Morrigan.  “You speak as though Mythal still exists.”

He shrugs, “Anything is possible.”

Morrigan speaks as though she is the resident expert, an action that has annoyed both of elves in the group to no end, “Elven legend states that Mythal was tricked by Fen’Heral and banished to the beyond.”

He scoffs, “Then ‘elven’ legend is wrong.  The Dread Wolf had nothing to do with her murder.”

Morrigan is taken aback, “Murder?  I said nothing of….”

Abelas practically rolls his eyes, “She was slain, if a god truly can be.  Betrayed by those who destroyed this temple.  Yet the Vir’abelasan remains.  As do we.  That is something.”

Shea rubs her marked hand as it twitches.  “Why does that sound like you are leaving the temple?”

“Our duty ends.  Why remain?”

Solas motions to him.  “There is a place for you, Lethallin… If you seek it.”

“Perhaps there are places the shemlen have not touched.  It may be that only uthenera awaits us.”  He looks over at Shea to define it for her, even though she has heard the term before, “The blissful sleep of eternity, never to awaken.  _If_ fate is kind.”

“You could come with us?  Fight Corypheus.  He killed your people.”

He shakes his head.  “We killed ourselves long ago.”

Solas bows his head, “Malas amelin ne halam, Abelas.”  Abelas bows his head to him, before turning and leaving.  They all watch him go.  “His name.  Abelas means sorrow.”

Moira nods, “Solas said, ‘I hope you find a new name’.”  Moira takes a few steps towards where Abelas left.  Solas touches her arm and shakes his head.  She pulls her arm away from him and crosses them over her chest.  The argument begins.  Morrigan wants to drink it, but Shea doesn’t know if she should trust her with this power.  This whole day has brought new things to light about the witch and she can see why Leliana didn’t trust her.

“Morrigan.  Think about this.  We don’t know what it will do to you.  And what about Kieran?  What if this alters you in a way that effects your relationship with him?”

This is the only statement that even remotely gives her pause.  “You are right.  Yet I would still risk it.  I am willing to pay this price the Well demands.  I am also the best suited to use its knowledge in your service.  Of those present, I alone have the training to make use of this.  Let me drink, Inquisitor.”

Moira scoffs, “You alone?  What are the rest of us?  Uneducated whelps?”

“I have studied the oldest lore.  I have delved into mysteries you can only dream!  Can you _honestly_ tell me, Inquisitor, there is anyone better suited?”

Shea looks at Solas.  He puts up his hands, “Don’t even ask.”

Moira glares at Morrigan.  “I could do it.  This is of my people.  Our heritage more so than yours.  If anyone should drink, it should be me or Solas.  Though he has already expressed his desire not to.”

“You are Dalish, true.  But that does not mean you have the background knowledge it will take to decipher what the knowledge within.”

Shea looks over at the Well.  She could do it.  She’s been studying all kinds of magical and elven lore.  But she knows that she would never actually do it.  Morrigan seems like the best choice, but Moira has made a very valid claim.  Could she do that to her friend?  Bind her to the will of Mythal?  She knows she would do it gladly, especially to keep this ancient elven artifact with her people.  But Morrigan is better trained and if the Well has negative side effects she would much rather Morrigan suffer them than Moira.  But what if no one drank it.  “I hate to say it, but Abelas’s plan to destroy the Well may be the best one.”

Moira shakes her head violently, but Morrigan is the first to speak, “What happens when Corypheus comes for you again?  Need I remind you that he is _immortal!_   The wisdom of the Well may include a way to destroy him.  Let me do this!  I will fight by your side! Be your sword!”

Shea looks at her friends.  “Well, what are your opinions?”

Moira crosses her arms again, “You know my opinion.  I should do it.”

Solas glares at Morrigan, “She is right about one thing: we should use the power of the Well.”

Blackwall shakes his head, “I trust you more than I trust her with it… though it’s not my place to decide.”

Cole looks at the Well, “So many voices.  They would be in your head.  Talking over you.  You do not want that.”

Shea paces for a moment.  She doesn’t have much time.  She sighs.  She looks at Moira apologetically before turning to Morrigan.  “It’s yours.”

Moira growls and nearly stalks away but Solas stops her again.  She moves away from him and stands next to Cole.

After Morrigan emerges from the Well, Shea hears a familiar roar from behind her and her mark flares in response.  She spins and sees Corypheus.  “Morrigan, are you alright?”

“I.. yes.”

“Then open that damn mirror.  Now!”  She does.  Shea leads the charge and stands next to the now active Eluvian.  She motions for everyone to run inside.  Once they are clear, she is about to head through, but for some reason decides to look back.  The water has formed into a spirit of some kind.  It waves her forward as Corypheus comes closer.  She darts in the mirror.  The wave crashes in behind her and the mirror shuts off.

They are back in the crossroads.  Those who haven’t been here are looking around with interest.  Her thoughts go immediately to Cullen and the rest of the Inquisition.  Morrigan starts leading the way back to Skyhold.  “Wait.  How will they know what happened to us?”

“Excuse me?”

“To them we’ve just disappeared into an ancient elven temple.  How will they know we aren’t dead and how will they know to come back to Skyhold?”

Morrigan sighs, “Once we are sure Corypheus is gone, we could bring them through here.”

“I know exactly how to do that.  Lead the way back.”

Morrigan leads them through the crossroads.  Once they emerge back at Skyhold, Shea tells Morrigan to wait for her by the Eluvian.  She runs through the castle, ignoring the surprised faces who thought she was in the Arbor Wilds.  She goes straight for Sky.  She finds a scrap of the enchanted paper.  She makes a mental note to ask Danielle for more.  She scribbles a note to Cullen.  “Take this to Cullen.  Even if he’s on the battlefield.  Be careful.”  The raven flies off.

She rushes back to Morrigan.  “Let’s go back.  Sky will bring us his response.”

“Sky?”

“Long story short I have a spirit possessed raven.  She’ll be able to find us in the crossroads.”

Morrigan shrugs and they go through the mirror together.

***

Cullen watches the dragon and Corypheus flee the field.  His army breaks ranks and tries to flee as well, but the Inquisition and the Orlesians are ready.  He wonders what’s going on inside.  Why hasn’t she come out yet?

He sees a raven circling overhead.  It dodges it arrows and magic as people try to shoot it down.  Cullen orders them to stop.  “What the hell is wrong with you people?  Can’t you tell it’s trying to deliver something of someone down here?!  Follow it!  Don’t shoot it!”  He watches it circle and then it dives.  He worries it’s been shoot down, but it pulls up sharply.  The glowing eyes give it away.  He holds out his arm and Sky lands on it.  The bird’s wing is bleeding and he shoots a glare over to the archer.  “Consider yourself lucky that you didn’t shoot down the Inquisitor’s raven.  Now go do your damn job!”

Cullen scratches the bird’s head as he has seen Shea do.  He pulls the rolled up paper from the bird’s metal cylinder, but the bird doesn’t fly away.  Cullen motions to a nearby mage.  “I have a strange request.  First, do you know any healing magic?”  The mage nods, “Great.  Could you… uh… heal this raven for me?”

“A raven, ser?”

“The Inquisitor’s raven.”  He sort of smirks, he supposes that Sky is his now too.  The mage holds out his arm and the bird hops onto it.  The mage walks a little ways away to work.  Cullen unrolls the tiny slip of paper.  They probably needed to get more from Danielle.

 

_C.  Long and complicated story. Used Eluvian to get to Skyhold.  Temple Elves are gone.  Samson is unconscious, might want to hurry.  Send Sky back when you have the inner circle, we’re bringing you back that way.  S._

He instantly gathers some men.  “I need a scout to run back to camp.  Gather the inner circle and find Lysette, bring them here, now.”  A scout sprints away.  “The rest of you with me.  We’ve got a prisoner to bring in.”   He looks over at the mage who has returned with a very happy looking bird. Sky hops onto Cullen’s shoulder.  “Let’s go.”  They all go into the temple.  Every door inside is wide open. The place looks abandoned.  Almost like it was abandoned centuries ago even though there used to be elves living here not moments ago. 

Once they get where the Well used to be, he points to Samson, “Get him before he comes to.  Tie him up.”  His men tie up the unconscious former templar.  Cullen climbs the stairs and sees the large circle with droplets of water everywhere and the intact Eluvian.  He pulls a pencil from his pocket and scribbles on the note.  _Clear._   He slides it in the tube on Sky’s leg.  “Take it to Shea.”  The bird takes flight.  It circles low for a bit and then flies straight for him.  Sky disappears through the inactive Eluvian.  He shakes his head and waits.  The magic activates and Morrigan steps out with Shea right behind her.

“This is probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever done.”

She hugs him.  She buries her face in his fur mantle as his arms snake around her.  She is shaking.  This is when the inner circle and Lysette see when they climb the stairs.  Cullen pats her back and sets her down.  He sees that the mark is glowing brighter than it normally does.  He takes her marked hand in his and squeezes it.  He turns towards the group.  “Lysette.  Take command of the men.  Get the area cleared and then lead our people and the prisoner back to Skyhold.”  She salutes and leaves. 

Shea looks at Josephine, Leliana, Dorian, and Bull.  “We have a short cut to Skyhold.  Unless you want to travel with the troops.”  She motions towards the Eluvian.  Bull and Dorian go right for it.  Shea had told them all about last time, so this didn’t worry them. 

When Josephine hesitates, Leliana urges her forward.  “You’ll be able to get back faster this way and you can get back to the comfort of your desk.”  Josephine sighs and allows Leliana to guide her through the mirror.  Shea nods to Morrigan who enters the mirror.

“Coming?”

“Of course.”  Shea leads Cullen into the Eluvian.

***

Shea is sort of at a loss after everything is said and done with regards to the Temple of Mythal.  Morrigan seems fine, if not a little enigmatic at times.  She also speaks more elven than she had before.  She tries to talk to Moira after they had settled back in, but the elf is upset that Shea allowed Morrigan to drink from the Well instead of her.  At least that’s the message Solas is instructed to give her.  Though he is perfectly fine with the decision.

“Well, since she isn’t here for me to talk to.  Can I ask you something?”

“In regards to?”

“You and Moira.”

“What do you mean me and Moira?”

“You two are fighting a lot less than before.  In fact, I’d go as far as to say you two were not only getting along but respect each other.”

Solas shrugs and sits at his desk.  “I just think we understand each other better after the whole Cole thing.”

“Uh huh.”

“I have no need to lie to you, Inquisitor.”

She leans on his desk.  “Solas, if you two have started a… relationship, I don’t mind.  I’d just like to be in the know.”

“There’s nothing going on that needs to be discussed.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

Shea pushes back from the desk, “Well I happen to be the resident Moira expert, if I do say so myself, so if you have questions you know where to find me.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, Inquisitor.”

Shea leaves starts to leave the rotunda.  She can’t decide which way to go.  She hasn’t had a meeting today.  She sighs and heads into the throne room.  Sure enough, there he is walking down the center of the throne room.  “Hey!”

He stops and turns towards her.  “Deciding to come to the meeting?”

She shrugs, “Seems like a good idea.”

“Morrigan is coming.”

“Oh?”

“She has apparently learned something useful.”

“Well, that’s good right?”

He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her in tight.  “I don’t think I said this before, but I’m very happy you decided not to drink the Well.  A lot of us are, but me most of all.  We’re not going to be in this line of work forever and I would have hated for this…Mythal to have control over you.”

“You just want me all to yourself, Commander.”

He smirks.  “Guilty as charged.”  He looks around and presses his mouth against her ear.  “Not completely to myself.  I may have to share you with a child.”

She chuckles, “It’s too soon to tell.  Relax. When I know, you’ll know.”

He kisses her cheek and steps back.  He walks with her to the war room.  “How’s the mark today?”

“Back to normal.  I think Corypheus has an effect on it.  Or maybe it’s the orb he carries.”

A scout rushes up to them.  “Being your pardon, but something requires your attention in the Garden, Inquisitor.”

She gives Cullen a quick peck on the cheek.  “Guess the meeting will have to wait.”  She heads to the garden.

The door to Morrigan’s area is wide open.  She waves the scout off and rushes in.  Leliana is standing next to the active Eluvian.  “Inquisitor.  Thank the Maker you’re here.  Morrigan just chased after Kieran into the Eluvian and she was terrified.”

“Chasing him?  How did this happen?”

“She said he activated it somehow and then she ran into it.  I sent a scout to get you.  I’ve never seen her like that.  You must go after her!”

Shea rushes through the Eluvian.  Once on the other side, she gasps.  _Shit.  This isn’t the crossroads.  This is the fucking Fade.  What the hell is going on?_   She rushes forward.  “Morrigan!  Morrigan!”

She finally sees her.  “Inquisitor!  Go back!  I must find him!  Why would he do this? _How_ could he does this?  If I lose him now after everything I’ve sacrificed…”

“Morrigan let me help you find him.”

“If anything happens to him…”

“We’ll find him. Come on.”

They run together through the Fade.  Red spirits float around, but don’t attack them.  Which is a good thing because not only is Shea unarmed, but she is in her uniform.  They appear to be leading them somewhere.  Finally after what seems like hours, Shea spots him.  “There he is!  But who is that with him?”

Morrigan stops dead in her tracks.  “That’s… no it can’t be.”

Shea and Morrigan cautiously approach.  Blue magic drifts between Kieran and an older woman who is kneeling before him.  Kieran stops the magic when he sees them.  “Mother!”

Morrigan glares at the woman, “Mother.”

Shea eyes go wide.  She’s read the stories.  She knows that Morrigan’s mother is Flemeth.   The Dalish call her Asha'bellanar, some of them make offerings to her.  What did her being here at this moment mean?  Flemeth stands and smirks, “Now, isn’t this a surprise.”

Shea looks between them, “Not a pleasant one it would seem.”

Flemeth chuckles, “Just spending a little quality time with my grandson.”

Morrigan sneers, “He is not your grandson!  Let him go!”

“As if I were holding him here against his will.  He came to me.  She has always been ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful?!  I know how you plan to extend your life, wicked crone!  You will not have me and you will not have my son!”  Morrigan summons magic in her hands and Flemeth laughs.  She waves her hand and the magic goes away.  “What have you done to me?!”

“What have I done to you?  Nothing.  You are the one who drank from the Well.”

Morrigan gasps.  “You are… Mythal?”

Shea head is spinning.  This woman is weaved into every bit of history she can think of as it is and now she’s an elven god.  “How is that possible?  I don’t understand.”

Flemeth pats Kieran on the back and he goes to Morrigan.  She kneels down to hug him.  “I’m sorry, Mother.  I heard her calling to me.  She said now was time.”

Kieran goes back to Flemeth.  Morrigan stays kneeling.  “I don’t understand.”

Shea scoffs, “That makes two of us.”

“Once I was but a woman, crying out in the lonely darkness for justice.  And she came to me, a wisp of an ancient being, and she granted me all I wanted and more.”

“Did you lure Morrigan down here to make her serve you?”

Flemeth laughs, “Oh what a servant she would be!”

Morrigan stands, “Then what do you want?”

“One thing and one thing only.”  Flemeth looks over at Kieran.

He looks down at the ground playing with his gloves, “I have to go now, Mother.”

Morrigan sneers, “No.  I will not allow this.”

“He carries a piece of what once was, snatched from the jaws of darkness.  You know this.”

“He is not your pawn, Mother.  I will not let you use him!”

Shea rolls her eyes.  She thought she was done with family drama.  And while Flemeth appears to be a threat to Kieran’s safety, this all seems so melodramatic. 

Flemeth smirks, “Did you not use him?  Isn’t that the whole reason for his creation?”

“That was then.  A favor for a friend.  A chance to save her and the man she loves as well as… but that doesn’t matter now.  He is my son.”  Morrigan looks over at Shea, “Flemeth extends her life by possessing the bodies of her daughters, Inquisitor.  That was the fate she intended for me.  I thwarted her plans with the help of the Hero of Ferelden and now she intends to use Kieran.”

“But that way she talked about Kieran.  There’s something… special about him.  The whole reason the Wardens survived their battle with the archdemon?”

Flemeth smirks, “You are more intelligent than I imagined a brute to be.  I am not the only one carrying the soul of a being long thought lost.”

“He is more than that, Mother.”

“As am I, yet do you hear me complain?  Our destinies are not so easily avoided, dear girl.”

Kieran looks up at Morrigan, “Mother, I have to.”

“You do not belong to her Kieran.  Neither of us do!”

Shea sighs, “If he is so special, why wait until now?”

“I did not know where he was.”

Morrigan groans.  “The Well.”

Shea throws up her hands, “Despite whatever you think he is, Kieran is still a child.”

“Fine.  Have it your way.  Here is my offer.  Let me take the boy and you are free.  Forever.  Or you can keep him and you will never be rid of me.  I will have my due.”

“Just take over my body now and let him go.  He will be better off without me, just as I was better off without you.”  She looks over at Shea, “Maybe you could take him.  To his father, I mean.”

Flemeth raises her hand, “That won’t be necessary.”  Flemeth turns and takes Kieran’s hands.  A blue ball of light floats from his chest and into hers.  She smiles at him.

“No more dreams?”

She nods, “No more dreams.” Kieran walks to his mother and she wraps an arm across his shoulders, “A soul is not forced upon the unwilling, Morrigan.  You were never in danger from me.  Listen to the voices.  They will teach you… as I never did.”  She turns and walks away.

Morrigan turns with Kieran and Shea follows them out of the mirror.  Morrigan stops to close the mirror before turning to Kieran.  “Are you alright?”

“I feel… lonely.”  Morrigan smiles then nods to him.  He smiles back and leaves the small room.  Shea is utterly confused.

“What the hell was all that?”

“She wanted the Old God’s soul all along.  It is worth reminding myself that I don’t know everything after all?  My mother has the soul of an elven goddess, or whatever ‘Mythal’ truly was, and her plans are unknown to me.”

“And you had no idea?”

“I suspected she wasn’t truly human and that she hid the truth from me, but this… I always thought the elven gods were nothing more than glorified rulers, but now I have doubt.  And doubt is... an uncomfortable thing, Inquisitor.  Be glad you didn’t drink from the Well, or your elven friend.  Apparently I am destined to be tied to my mother for eternity.”

“So Kieran had the soul of an Old God?  Is that how the Wardens survived?  I suspected something had happened, but I don’t think it ever occurred to me that this was the result.”

“Yes.  He has never known anything else.  I’m worried how this will affect him.”

“Other than helping your friend, why did you…”

“I told you at the temple that the magic of old must be preserved, no matter how feared.”

Shea sighs, “For what it’s worth… I think you did the right thing.  It can’t be easy to look into the face of someone who has hurt you so and give yourself over to them to save someone you love.”

Morrigan nods, “I suppose you would know how that feels better than anyone here.”

Shea crosses her arms over her chest.  “What do you mean by that?”

“I have heard whispers.  You also have that look in your eye that I have seen too many times in the mirror.”

“I see.  Well, keep that too yourself.  I don’t need pity from anyone.”

“I quite agree.  In any case, I know what we must do in order to defeat Corypheus.  We should move on this quickly.  I fear that he might lash out like a petulant child now that you have ruined all of his plans.”

Shea nods.  “I have some things to do.  But we need to stay on high alert.  Skyhold is short an army right now.”  She starts to leave and then stops.  “I… this really isn’t my place.  But… have you tried to reach out to Alistair and Danielle again?  With your new knowledge you might be able to help them.  And… I’m sure Kieran would like to meet his father.”

Morrigan tilts her head to the side.  “Why so interested in this suddenly?”

“Well… I… With all your family drama, it might be nice to… Shit I don’t know.  I’m definitely not the expert on all this family crap.  But it might be nice to have support?  Just… forgot it.”  Shea turns to leave and Morrigan stops her.

“Not to pry, but are you and your Commander trying to start a family?”

“How did you… yes.  We haven’t told anyone.  It’s hardly the time.  What with Corypheus and trying to put the world back together.  We’re a little concerned as to how the mark might affect…”

Morrigan motions for her to follow.  “When did you start trying?”

Shea counts the days on her hand.  “Let’s see.  It took a roughly week to get to the Arbor Wilds.  We didn’t leave Skyhold for two days before that.  The battle took a full day.  And we’ve been back a day.  So, that’s about 11 days.”

Morrigan climbs a set of stairs by the Garden and pushes open the door to her guest room.  “Go find Dorian, my dear.  Work on your healing magic with him.”

“Yes, Mother!”  Kieran gets up and rushes out of the room.  Morrigan closes the door and motions for Shea to sit on her bed.

“Have there been scares?”

“Three total over the course of our relationship.”  She chuckles, “I’ve never been this candid with anyone about my love life.”

Morrigan sits in the chair at her desk.  “It probably has something to do with being a witness to my own extremely personal hell.  Especially when I thought she was dead.”

“You thought she was dead?”

“You know Danielle, yes?”  Shea nods, “I asked her to kill my mother to protect me from her body snatching plan.  She did so gladly.  I had heard rumors, of course, and even suspected she’d find a way to come back, but I hoped… so three scares then?”

Shea nods.  “Yes.”

“Do you know when they happened?”

“Not exactly, but the most recent one was… gosh I don’t know.  Maybe two or three months ago?  Though I guess everything’s been moving so fast lately that I just doesn’t seem like it was that long ago.  I can tell you where it happened but not the exact when.”

Morrigan picks up a quill and starts making notes on a piece of paper.  “Well, if that’s true then the last time wouldn’t interfere with this time.  I take it is was that night all of Skyhold heard you?”

She blushes, “You too huh?”

“Stone walls help.  You could only hear if were outside.  Or if a window was open.  It’s better than listening to two certain Wardens going at it like rabbits in a tent.  I happened to be walking the garden that night.”

“I’m sorry.”

Morrigan laughs, “Don’t be.  At least I don’t dislike Cullen.  At the time, Alistair got on my nerves so hearing him whimper and cry out her name every night was torture. It is even worse when he’s doing it in your face.”

“At least you got Kieran out of that right?”

“It is an odd thing to have a man whom you barely tolerate on top of you calling out your name when you know he wishes it were someone else.”

“It was my understanding you were friends.”

“Ha!  Hardly.  I was close friends with Danielle.  I swallowed my pride for her.  And partly for me as you know.  But back to you.  So that night before was the last time you tried?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm… the physical signs might still be some time off.  I didn’t start getting morning sickness until three week after.  But I knew right away when the Old God’s soul went into me.  I could use magic to check.  I know what to look for since I was pregnant myself.”

“Before we do that… what does magic do to an unborn child?  Especially for someone who doesn’t normal have it?”

“You mean the Anchor?”  Shea nods.  “Well, some physically injuries can harm you.  But you’re armor should prevent something from happening.  Honestly, you could probably fight until your armor doesn’t fit anymore and both of you would be fine.  And I can say that as a mage, magic does nothing.  I cannot say for sure that the mark with have no effect as you are a special case.  It flared twice while we were in the temple.  So if you are with child, then I would say that it shouldn’t negatively impact anything.”

Shea rubs the palm of her hand.  “Is it… too soon to tell?”

Morrigan smiles, “As I said, I knew the very next night.  With magic, it’s never too soon to tell.”

Shea swallows her nerves and inhales deeply.  “What do I need to do?”

Morrigan stands.  “Just lay back.  I will need direct contact with your skin.”

“Alright.”  She lays back on Morrigan’s bed.  She lifts her shirt to reveal her stomach.

“Pants too, dear.  It’s still quite early, so it’ll be much lower than that.”  Shea unbuttons her pants.  This is suddenly very awkward.  She pushes the front of her smalls and pants down.  “That’s plenty low enough.”  Morrigan places her hands between Shea’s hips.  Shea closes her eyes.  Her skin tingles as Morrigan summons her magic into her hands.  Warmth fills her, which makes things even more awkward because it feels like she does when Cullen turns her on.  The feeling fades and Shea sighs.  Morrigan removes her hands.  Shea redresses herself before opening her eyes.  She sits up and looks at the mage.

“Well?”

Morrigan grins, “With everything about to happen with Corypheus, do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.  You are.  It seems strong even at the early stage.  Which is good news.  It survived the mark and will continue to survive it.”  Shea feels tears well up in her eyes.  She can’t tell if she’s happy or sad.  This had to be why her fear of Corypheus had grown since she last saw him at Haven.  Morrigan pats her arm.  “Can I offer you some advice?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t tell him yet.  It is still too early to call it a child.  If something happens that makes you lose this one, you can always have another.  And if you die fighting… at least he won’t know that he lost two people instead of just one.”

That is it.  The root of her fear.  Morrigan found it in a matter of seconds.  Shea covers her face.  “Maybe I shouldn’t have found out.”

“Maybe not, but now you know.  And that can’t be taken back.  As I said, barring something extreme, you should be fine.  It can handle the mark and it survived the battle in the Arbor Wilds.  Don’t let these thoughts consume you.  I know from experience that if you let this distract you, something will happen.  You are a skilled warrior.  A distraction like this could very well result in your losing this child.  Don’t dwell on it and don’t tell him.  Not yet.”

“You’re absolutely right.  I can’t tell him.  And I’m going to have to work on clearing my head when the time comes.  Fighting while distracted when the stakes are this high is deadly.”

“If you are worried about it later, I can check on it for you.  But once this is over, I will be leaving Skyhold with Kieran and you will need to find someone else.”

“Thank you, Morrigan.”

Shea stands and heads for the door, “Inquisitor?”

“Yes?”  Shea turns to face Morrigan.

“I know you didn’t ask, but I’ve seen you with Kieran and that boy, Cole.  It may not mean much coming from me, but I think you’re going to be a great mother.”

Shea closes her eyes to keep the tears from spilling out.  Once she’s calm again, she opens them.  “Thank you, Morrigan.”

“If you see my son, tell him it’s time to return to his studies.”

“I will.”

Shea leaves Morrigan’s room and leans back on the door after closing it.  She feels conflicted about this.  She is happy that she is going to have his child, but she doesn’t know if she’ll even be alive in a few days.  No one knew when or where Corypheus would retaliate, but everyone agreed it wouldn’t be long.  She should tell him, but he has already said that if it is going to be hard enough for him to send her off to a fight that might kill her.   If he knows she is pregnant, he won’t let her go and she is the only person who has the power to kill him.  At least, that’s what everybody says.  She doesn’t even know how to kill him.

She pushes off from the door and heads for the rotunda.  She needs to tell someone, just not him.  Who would keep this to themselves?  She walks into the throne room from the garden.  She heads for the rotunda to deliver Morrigan’s message to Kieran.  Her eyes are on the ground in front of her.  She climbs the stairs to Dorian’s sitting area.  They are both sitting on the floor.  The have apparently found a guinea pig for their healing experiments.  Bull is laying on the ground.  “Hey boss!”

“Are you being a good patient?”

He laughs.  Dorian looks up at her.  “Come to fetch my student have you?”  She nods. “Finish with that bruise, Kieran.  Then you’re done for the day.”

“It’s harder than it was before.”

“So, I’ve noticed.  But you’re still doing quite well.”

She watches them work.  Should she tell Dorian?  She’s told him things in the past and he’s kept them to himself.  Granted he could have told Bull, and she’d have no idea.  And Bull is really good friends with Cullen. She glances over her shoulder.  Moira is sitting on the scaffolding helping Solas paint something on the rotunda.  Moira.  Even if she is still mad at her, they are best friends.  Moira would never tell anyone about anything they talked out.  Kieran standing pulls her back to the scene in front of her.  “Where did she say to meet her?”

“She said it was time to resume your studies.”

“Alright.  Bye then.”  He waves at then and rushes off.  Bull stands.

“Well, even though I was an experiment for magic crap, at least my ribs are better.”

“What happened to your ribs?”

Bull looks over at Dorian.  “What?  It was an accident, Amatus.”

“Accident my ass.”

Shea chuckles, “Is this a sex thing?”

“No.  I may have tried to scare him with a magic.  And he may have… fallen onto a table and broken it.”

Bull crosses his thick arms over his chest, “From the second story of the tavern.”

“Yes. Yes.  Details.  I said I was sorry.”

“Oh, you’ll be sorry later.”

Shea laughs, “And that’s my cue to leave. Try not to get hurt again.  I need you boys in tip top shape when we go up against Corypheus.”

“Got it, boss.”  Shea goes down the stairs and approaches the scaffolding.

Neither elf looks away from their task. She leans against his desk and waits.  She knows that once started it needs to be completed in one go.  Moira glances down and sees her waiting.  She whispers something to Solas.  He rolls his eyes.  “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“It’s either talk now, or I use that potion that sends me into the Fade and talk to you there.”

Solas looks down at her, “You don’t have that potion.”

“You need to learn to hide things better.”

“Sera?”

“Yep.”

Solas looks back at Moira.  He whispers something to her and she angrily whispers back.

Shea sighs, “For what it’s worth.  I’m not sorry I didn’t let you drink from the Well.  I’m sure you remember me telling you stories of Flemeth.  Your people call her Asha'bellanar.  Well, she’s Morrigan’s mother… and Mythal.”  Both elves snap their heads towards her.  “I met her tonight.  Not exactly the best person to be tied to for eternity.  So, consider yourself lucky that it’s Morrigan and not you.”

Moira whispers to Solas.  He groans.  “Ask her yourself.”

Moira rolls her eyes.  “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No.  It’s… personal.  You are still my best friend.  Even if you are mad at me.”

Solas looks down at Moira, “I can finish this on my own, if you want to go.”

Moira looks up at him.  She stands and rubs paint on his face.  He shakes his head and continues painting.  She climbs down the scaffolding and goes to stand in front of Shea.  “Where should we go?”

Shea thinks for a moment.  She’s trying to think of where Cullen won’t be.  “The mage tower.”

“Alright.”  They walk together through Skyhold.  Shea opts to get there through the garden, since going across the battlements would likely make her run into him.  “Is there a reason you’re avoiding your fiancé?”

“Yes.  You’ll find out when there aren’t ears everywhere.”  They walk in silence.  When they get to the tower, Shea climbs to the very top of it.  She leans against the wall and Moira leans on the wall across from her.  Shea sighs.  “I’m not sure how to say this any other way.  But let me start by saying that I am sorry that I made you angry with me.  Like I said, you’re my best friend and there were so many unknowns that I couldn’t risk losing you.  Be mad at me for that if you want.”  She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a huff.  “I’m pregnant.”

Moira chokes on air.  “What did you just say?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Is that a good thing or…?”

Shea smiles, “It’s a very good thing, but I can’t tell him yet.”

“Why not?  That seems like something he should know.”

Shea sighs, “He is having a hard enough time sending me to fight Corypheus when I could very well die.  If he knew, then he wouldn’t let me go and the world would suffer for it.  But I needed to tell someone.”

“Wow.  Just… wow.  I thought you didn’t want kids.”

“I didn’t.  Until I met him.  Well, that’s not totally true.  I didn’t until the other night when I decided I wanted to give him everything he’s ever wanted.”

“And he wants kids?”

Shea laughs, “And a farm apparently.”

Moira laughs, “I can’t even imagine you working a farm.”

“Neither can I.  But if that’s what he wants, then I’ll gladly learn how to do farm things.”

“Do you know when it happened?”

“All of Skyhold knows when it happened.”

They both laugh.  Moira’s anger has melted away.  She walks over to Shea and gives her a big hug.  Shea hugs her back.  “I’m so happy for you, ma falon.”

“Thank you.  Needless to say, you can’t tell anyone not even your new boyfriend.”

“Ugh.  He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Then what is he then?”

Moira pulls back from her.  “I… don’t know, but it’s not like that.  We’ve just channeled our disagreements into something more… energy consuming.”

Shea chuckles, “So, you don’t have the energy to argue with him anymore because you’re having angry sex with him?”

“It’s not always angry.  But yes.”

“Never pictured Solas as the type.”

“Honestly, I didn’t either.  But he started it.  You’d be surprise how smooth that egghead elf is.”

Shea smiles, “Want to talk about this over dinner?  I’m starving.”

“Well, you are eating for two now.”

Shea smiles brightly, “I suppose I am.”  They climb down the tower and head for the tavern to have dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My biggest question during the game is how the hell did everyone get back before their forces? Well, here's my idea as to how. Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> UPDATED July 25, 2018


	62. Click, Click, Boom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some unexpected things happen this chapter lol
> 
> *** time/pov shift

Cullen is already asleep when Shea comes tiptoeing up the stairs.  It wasn’t her intention to stay out so late, but it has been so long since she’s had a joyous evening with her friends.  She is worried that he will be upset with her for skipping their usual dinner, but her joy far outweighs that worry.  Sure, a worry of a different kind is constantly picking at her brain, but at least she is letting herself have this one carefree moment until reality brings her back down to earth.  She tip toes to her wardrobe and slowly opens the door.  She strips from her uniform and hangs it up.  She unlaces her breast band and tosses it in the basket. 

She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror.  The dim glow from the low burning fire dancing across her skin.  The scars stand out to her the most in this dim lighting or in the moonlight.  Sunlight seems to even them out, at least to her eyes.  She glances over at him to make sure he is still out.  His mouth is open and grumbly snores roll from him.  His eyes are still behind his lids.  She smiles at how peaceful he looks in _their_ bed.  She turns her attention back to the mirror.  She places her had low on her abdomen.  She knows it’s still early and that it will be weeks before she starts showing, but just knowing it’s in there makes her heart flutter.

This tiny thing, that can’t even really be called a child yet, has already stolen what is left of her heart.  She closes her eyes and prays.  Something she hasn’t done in ages.  She isn’t even sure she believes, but if someone is there, she hopes they will listen. She prays as hard as she can to any being that will hear her to protect the two people she loves most.  She doesn’t care what happens to her in the long run, as long as they would be ok.  It’s not a very realistic prayer, but she makes it anyway.

She grabs one of his shirts and throws in on.  She doesn’t bother lacing it.  She slides the band from her hair and shakes it out.  Her auburn locks brush the back of her shoulders.  It has grown out faster than she expected, but her concept of time is a bit skewed lately.  It might be time for another haircut.  She runs her fingers through her hair.  Maybe she should just let it keep growing.  She knows Cullen likes it longer.  She shrugs, content to think on it later, and gently closes the wardrobe door.

She carefully slides under the covers, doing her best not to disturb him.  She lays her head on the pillow and settles onto her side to watch him sleep.  She watches the steady rise and fall of his chest.  She admires his muscles, rippling and defined, even while he is relaxed in sleep.  She imagines laying besides him while their child sleeps on his chest the way she likes to.  She reaches toward him and careful caresses the center of his chest with her left hand.  Her ring and the mark shining in the dim lighting.  She quickly lifts her hand as he stirs.  She doesn’t want to wake him.  She is so happy just watching him sleep that she isn’t ready to stop.

He settles back down and his soft snoring resumes.  She keeps her hands to herself this time.  Not wanting to interfere with his sleep.  She never thought she’d be too happy to sleep, but here she is, lying next to her future husband, carrying his child, wide awake.  She shifts to get closer to his face.  To study his sleeping features more closely.  She listens to his gentle snores.  She wants to desperately to touch his lips.  She lifts her hand slowly.

The mark flares in his face and she sits up clutching it to her chest.  Her teeth clamp closed trying to hold in the sounds of pain threating to escape.  She tries to breathe through it, hissing in and letting it out slowly.  She feels a lazy hand touch her back.  She slowly looks over at him.  His eyes aren’t fully open, but his mouth forms a straight line of concern.  She manages to choke out a response to his expression.  “It’ll pass.  I’ll be ok.”

Hearing the pain in her voice, he rubs his eyes and sits up.  He wraps his arm around her and rest his drowsy head on her shoulder.  Her arm burns as the flare intensifies.  She sharply inhales and whimpers.  Her jaw tightens as she fights to hold in her cry.  Tears stream down her face.  This is the worst it has been in almost a year.  She presses her right thumb into the mark and squeezes her fist closed around it.  Her body shakes and his grip tightens.  She tries to clear her mind, focus on the mark like she did when she was being possessed.  Trying to calm it herself.  The act just makes it angry.  It flares again before the first one has even remotely faded.  She growls in pain, refusing to scream.

“Do we need to get Solas?”  She shakes her head.  “Love, you are clearly in pain.”  She shakes her head again.  “Shea.  Look at me.”  She turns her head to face him.  No amount of training can hide the pain in her eyes.  “What can I do?”

Her reply is breathy, no louder than a whisper.  “Nothing.  It’ll pass.”

“Love, I’ve never seen it flare twice in a row before.”

“That was my fault.  I pissed it off.”

“How?”

Her body tenses as the pain increases again.  “I tried to control it like I did at Halamshiral.”

He wipes sweat from her forehead.  She is squeezing her fist closed as tight as she can get it.  Her nails digging into her flesh, no doubt leaving marks.  She trembles in his arms as pain shoots up her arm.  She breathing begins to slow and bright glow of her hand begins to fade.  She exhales as the pain travels down her arm.  She relaxes against his chest, her fist still locked closed around the blinding light.  Her jaw unclenches.  He brushes the hair from her sweating forehead as she settles in against him.  His eyes drift closed in both relief and exhaustion.

Her scream pierces the air and she is out of his arms in a flash.  His eyes fly open.  She is hunched over on her forearms and knees on the bed.  Her right hand tightly grips her left wrist.  Her left hand an open claw as the mark pulses brightly.  He is off the bed before her cry even stops.  “I’m getting Solas.”  He doesn’t bother with a shirt or shoes.  He rushes down the stairs leaving her frozen on the bed.

She feels a cool had on the back of her neck.  Brushing her hair in front of her face.  The hand gently squeezes her neck while another cool hand presses into her up stretched palm.  Her fingers close tightly around it.  A soft melodic voice hits her eyes, “He’s coming.  I heard it in the Fade.  Rage, revolt, revenge.”  She pants as Cole attempts to comfort her to no avail.

Through gritted teeth she asks, “Is he doing this?”

“Yes.”

He must be close then.  Closer than she feels comfortable with.  To be able to torture so expertly without even being there took great power, she is sure of it.  It must be the orb.  He has to be doing something with the orb.  Her hand convulses around Cole’s as the mark flares a fourth time.  Cullen can hear her screams drift through the open door and into the throne room.  He and Solas pick up their speed.  The elf was clearly asleep when Cullen found him.  His bare feet pad soundlessly on the marble floor, his slender yet muscular chest equally as bare.

They crest the stairs to see Cole sitting right next to her on the bed. The fingers of the hand she is gripping are slowly losing their color.  He doesn’t mind.  He can tell it helps.  He looks up at Solas, “It flared again.”

Cullen sighs, “That’s the fourth time in a row.”

Solas summons his magic and hovers it over their joined hands.  “There’s nothing I can do.  Something is triggering the flares.”

She cracks on eyes open and looks at Cole.  Her voice is trapped in her, but she wants to tell them what Cole said and what she thought in response.  He nods, “She wants me to tell you that what I heard in the Fade while I was sleeping.  He’s coming.  Rage, revolt, revenge.  She thinks he’s close and using the orb to torture her from afar.”

Solas nods, “That would do it.”

“Is there anything you can do to ease her suffering?”

Solas shakes his head.  “Short of doing what you did back in Haven…”

She shakes violently her head.  Cole looks at Cullen, “She says, ‘Don’t you fucking dare, Cullen Stanton Rutherford’.”

Hearing her expletive coming for Cole’s mouth makes Cullen chuckle slightly. “Love, we want to help you.”

Cole continues to speak for her, “Not like that.”

Cullen looks over at Solas, “Will this kill her?”

Solas shakes his head, “No.  But it will keep her awake and in pain.  As I said, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Cole looks down at Shea, “What about the ice band?”

Solas shakes his head, “I would shatter before doing any good.”

Cullen sighs, “Would knocking her out help?”

Solas crosses his arms, “Meaning?”

“Would giving her a potion that would make her sleep help?”

“It would not stop the pain, but she would definitely notice it less.”

Shea shakes her head and Cole speaks, “I’ll just live with it.  It has to stop sometime, right?  Sorry to wake you.”

Solas nods, “If it gets worse, let me know.”  Solas pats Cullen on the arm before going back downstairs.

Cole looks down at her, “Are you sure?  I can stay.”  He listens to some unspoken response.  “I just want to help.”  He pauses.  “Alright.  If you say so.”  He pries her hand off his and he helps her sit up.  He climbs off the bed and stops in front of Cullen.  “Try to distract her. It might help.”

“Thank you, Cole.”  Cole leaves down the stairs and closes the door behind him.  Cullen climbs up on the bed.  She rolls onto her right side and lays her head in his lap.  He runs his fingers through her hand as she clutches her fist to her chest.  He doesn’t know what to do to help her.  He isn’t sure what distraction would work through the pain.  “I wish I knew how to help you, love.”

She manages to squeak out, “Me too.”

He continues running his fingers through her hair with one hand.  He rests the other of her arm.  He gently rubs her arm.  He can practically feel the magic pulsing through it.  He gently squeezes her arm, trying to massage it and she winces.  “I’m sorry.”

She speaks through gritted teeth.  She never thought she’d miss Cole reading her mind.  “It wasn’t you.”

“Then what was it?”

“What do you think it is?”  Her good mood has completely shattered.  Her response is a little sharper than she indeed.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“Maker I feel so helpless.”

“Join the club.”  His fingers trail along her spine.  She tilts her head up to look at him.  She sees so much worry in his eyes.  Fear mixed with concern.  His eyes still look tired.  “Maybe you should try to go back to sleep.”

“And leave you to suffer alone?  Never.”  She leans up slightly.  He leans down and presses his lips gently against hers.  She sighs and lays her head back in his lap.  “Cole said I should distract you.  Any idea what he meant by that?”  She shakes her head and rolls onto her back.  The green glow coming from her fist is pulsating and bright.  If her hand were open it would probably light up the darkened room.  He rest his hand on her fist.  “Is it calming at all?”  She shakes her head again.  “Was it worse during the Breach?” 

She nods.  “It’s not as painful, but it’s been so long since it’s caused me any real pain that I forgot how much it hurts.”

“And it’s flared four times in a row.”

“Right.”

His eyes trace her body.  Despite her pain, the view of her bare legs curled up toward her and the top of her breasts peeking out of the loose shirt makes his mouth water.  Is that what Cole meant?  It didn’t seem like him to suggest that kind of thing, but sex has always worked as a distraction tool in the past.  He places his hand on her knee.  He doesn’t feel right taking advantage of her in her prone state.  His thumb absentmindedly rubs circles on the side of her bent knee.  She closes her eyes, focusing on the motion.  He slides his up her thigh, his fingers massaging and drawing patterns in her skin.

He watches her face to see if this is helping at all.  She looks fairly relaxed, even though her fist is still squeezed closed and the muscle in her left arm are tense.  He moves his hand further up and stops at her hip.  He traces the edges of her smallclothes and the lines of her muscles. Her hands, the marked one still balled in a fist, fall to her sides.  His cheeks flush and heat builds in him.  She opens her eyes and her ocean pools shine into his.  He can see the pain but also a hunger that matches his own.  He feels his blood pumping and his arousal growing.  He still feels a little guilty about this.  She is being crippled by pain.  He can tell himself it is helping her all night long, but it won’t change the fact that he wants this from purely selfish reasons.

He slides his hand beneath her shirt.  Pressing the calloused flesh flat against her smooth soft skin.  His fingers graze her scars as they travel further up her body.  She sits up suddenly.  He worries he’s done something wrong, until she faces him and holds her arms up over her head.  He slides his hands up her sides bringing the shirt with him.  He pulls it over her head, careful not to disturbing her still glowing and pulsing hand.  He sits back and pats his lap.  She lays on her back and lays her head across his thighs.  She sees the hardening mound in his pants.  She smirks then closes her eyes as his hand moves over her bare skin.

There is no teasing.  He knows she doesn’t have the patience for that right now.  He keeps his exploration of her skin is slow and gentle, but with full contact.  He traces the lines of her body.  Her hips, her toned abs.  She can feel him beginning to press against the side of her face.  Though he is plenty distracting, she can’t bring herself to fully enjoy his touches as every pulse in her hand and up her arm, pulls her focus from him.  His fingers graze across her supple breasts, tracing around the round edges.  He watches as her peaks react to him.  Slowly hardening in arousal from his delicate touches.

She sighs.  She hates that the mark is robbing her of what would normally be a pleasurable experience.  She wonders if she were more active in this, if she’d be able to give him the attention he desires.  She slowly uncurls her hand.  The bright green light catches his attention as his thumbs circles her nipple.  He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, but instead of watching his hand, he watches hers.  She stretches her fingers, willing them to move in spite of her pain.  She gingerly moves each part of her arm, wrist, elbow, shoulder.  He switches his hand to her other nipple to give it equal attention.

She looks up at him and sees that he is watching her move her arm.  She reaches her painful glowing hand up to caress his face.  The combination of her fingers and the magic pulsing through her hand sends a tingling yet oddly arousing sensation through this skin.  He closes his eyes.  His hand ceases its movement and he cups her breast. Curious as to why he stopped, she runs her left hand along his jawline.  He takes ragged breath.  He has no idea why he’s enjoying this, but he is.  He feels himself pressing against his sleepwear.  Rock solid, but getting harder the more she touches him.

Her hand trails down his neck.  He squeezes her breast and she moans.  She runs the glowing mark down to his chest.  He moans and runs his rough thumb across her hard peek.  She can see out of the corner of her eye that he is extremely aroused.  His hard cock is begging to be freed from its prison.  She is all too happy to oblige.  She moves her hand to his sensitive nipple circling it with her thumb while she turns her head.  She doesn’t even have to move that far just a slight adjustment and she mouths him through his pants.  He whispers her name.  His voice revealing the doubt and need in his voice.  She turns onto her side and uses her pain filled marked hand to tug on his waist band.  Her watches her face react to the pain and tries to stop her.

It is too late though, she frees his throbbing member and carefully wraps her marked hand around it.  He falls backwards on the bed, his arms splayed out to the side.  He would not be able to describe this feeling if his life depended on it.  Her touch combined with the pulsing magic in her hand create such a pleasing sensation that it almost makes him dizzy. 

She shifts her position so that she is kneeling between his legs.  Part of her knows this is dangerous.  And that part is screaming for her to stop.  What if she hurt him?  What if it flared again while she did this and her fist clamped around him involuntarily?  She knows the flare itself wouldn’t be what hurt him, but her reaction to the pain.  Then again, if whatever wis causing the flares decides to activate another feature of the mark’s power, then it would hurt him.  Hell, it might even kill him.  Judging by how hard he is, this wouldn’t take long.  She looks up at him trying to not to grimace at the pain as she strokes him.  “I’ve never seen you this hard.”

Though being touched by the marked hand as leading him towards one of the fastest orgasms of his life, what he wants more than anything is to drive himself into her depths.  Filling her with his ever growing cock.  She squeezes and pumps him.  She grits her teeth as the pain threatens to overcome her again.  He sits up and removes her hand.  As soon as it isn’t touching anything, her fist snaps closed.  He cups her face, holding it firmly between his hands.  “Look what you’ve done to me, woman.”

She looks down at his leaking, twitching erection.  “So, what are we going to do about it?”

He can still hear the pain in her voice, but there’s desire there too.  He kisses her and shifts his weight forward.  She falls onto her back and her heads hangs off the end of the bed.  His hands grip her hips and yanks at her underwear, she lifts her hips to help him.  He flings them across the room.  He pulls down and struggles to kick off his pants.  He jumps on top of her and mashes his hungry lips into hers.  She wraps her arm around his ribs and presses her palm into his back.  At the same time, she grabs the back of his neck with her marked hand.  Not waiting for her to be ready for him, he drives his full thickness into her.  She cries out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

He gives her a second to adjust to him before pulling out completely and driving himself in again.  “Oh Maker!”  Her heads fall back of the edge of the bed.  His sucks on her neck enough to cause just a little pain, but no mark.  She moans loudly as she clings to him.  He places his hands on her knees and slowly pushes them toward her chest.  He moans as he feels her open more for him.  He drives himself forward and her cry echoes off the stone walls.  Just when she thinks he can’t fill her more, he does.  He spreads her legs as wide as they will go and then moves them towards her head.  Once he hears a sound of protest escape her lips, he holds them there.  She knows she isn’t as flexible as he’d like her to be.  Maybe she could work on that.  It is enough for him though.  He drills himself still further in.  His dense curls presses against hers.  He has never been this far inside her before.  He moves his hips in a circle, savoring the depth.  His pelvis stimulating her clit.

Her grips tightens on his neck and back.  Her nails dig into his skin.  Pain and pleasure in equal measure fill her whole body.  The only pain she isn’t enjoying is the one in her hand and arm, but the rest she wants more.  She grinds her hips into him.  She pulls her head up and he kisses her.  He nipples on her lower lip.  His grinds against her.  He relishes in pulling himself all the way out only to slam into her depths.  Sending her over the edge with every thrust.  He knows he isn’t going to last long.  He repeats that thrust that makes her cry out in pain and pleasure at the same time.  Her slickness coating every inch of him.  He can feel her arousal dripping down his balls.  He puts every ounce of muscle he has into his final thrust.  It sends him over the edge.  His body tightens and he throws his head back as he shoots his load deep inside her.

She feels his warmth spread and she cries out in climax.  Mid-cry the tone changes as her mark flares against his neck.  She quickly pulls her hand away from his neck and clutches the fist to her chest.  He releases her legs.  He removes himself from her and pulls her towards him.  He cradles her against his chest as she rides out the flare.  The room goes dim.  He looks down at her as a deep and loud sigh passes her lips.  The green light is gone and it has returned to its normal dim glow.  She trembles in his arms.  Relief, ecstasy, orgasmic aftershocks, and the good pain remain.  Her arm is a little sore, but it is nothing she couldn’t handle.

She relaxes in his arms.  He rocks her in his arms and hums a song she doesn’t know.  “You’re in a good mood.”

“That was… intense.  And your mark finally stopped glowing.”

She shakes her head and a soft chuckle hits his ears.  “You have no idea how… amazing that felt for me.  I mean yes, I was in excruciating pain, but there was also… good pain.”

“Who knew the mark had… other uses?”

She laughs and looks up at him.  She kisses under his chin.  “How about we keep the other stuff and not use the mark like that again?  Some… bad things could have happened.  I don’t want to hurt you like that.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Do you remember that nightmare I had ages ago?  Where you were a red templar?”  He nods.  “Well, I’m not sure I ever told you how that ended.”

“I recall you saying we… killed each other.”

“Right, but did I say how?”

“No.”

“I used the mark on you.”

“Oh.”

“So, I’m afraid of what might happen if…”

“Say no more.  We won’t use the mark anymore.”

“Good.”  She snuggles against his slick and sweaty chest.  “We should probably get some sleep.”  He lays back with her in him arms.  She slides off his chest and onto her side.  “I owe you since I woke you up.”  She opens her arms.  He wraps his arms around her waist and shifts down her body.  He nuzzles his face in his favorite spot.  She wraps her arms around his head and throws a leg over him.  He reaches down and pulls the covers over them.  She nestles her face in his hair.  He falls asleep before she does and soft snores rumble between her breasts.  She closes her eyes and smiles.  She kisses the top of his head and attempts to get some sleep.

***

She is painfully sore the next morning.  She wakes before him for once.  She assumes he got hot in the night as he has roll over with his back to her.  Though her arms and leg are still wrapped around him somehow.  She shifts forward and rests her forehead on his back.  He still smells like sweat and sex.  Her mouth waters.  She shifts behind him and feels her muscle protest.  She groans.  She determines that she is too sore to do anything that she wants to.  “Something the matter?”

“I didn’t wake you did I?”

He chuckles, “No.”

“Good.”

He turns over to face her.  “How are you feeling?”

“Extremely sore.  In loads of places.”

“Like?”

She smirks, “My arm and hand, obviously.  My legs… more accurately my hips.  And uh… somewhere a little further south.”

“I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, no.  I liked it.  Though I think I’m not as flexible as you would like me to be.  Thus the sore hips.”

“We could stay in bed.”

She sighs, “No, we can’t.  And you know that.  We need to find out where he is.  If he’s close enough to fuck with my mark… that makes me really uneasy.”

He plants a kiss on her lips and climbs out of bed.  She quietly scans his naked form before he turns around.  She then scans the front of him.  “First things first, my lady.”  He holds out his hand.  She takes it and he pulls her out of the bed.  Her body protests but she remains standing.  He laces his fingers with hers and pushes the door to the bath room open.  “Bath time.”  She smiles and he closes the door behind them after she is across the threshold.

***

Shea walks hand in hand with Cullen after their breakfast in the tavern.  The hot bath helped relieve some of her pain, but she is still impossibly sore.  Especially her marked hand.  Her whole arm is stiff and achy.  They are headed for the morning meeting with Morrigan in tow.  There had actually eaten with the witch and her son.  Both of them seem different than their usual themselves, at least to Shea.  Cullen doesn’t notice at all. 

All this time and Kieran had never met Cullen.  Learning he used to be a templar and hearing stories about what templars did to mages, made the boy terribly shy.  With a little coaxing from both Shea and Morrigan, Kieran and Cullen began talking up a storm.  In a surprise move, Cullen asked to see Kieran’s magic.  Shea knew magic still picked at the bad parts of his mind, so this was big for him.  Kieran was all too happy to freeze Cullen’s drink and like a good audience he applauded the boy.  He then asked Kieran to unfreeze it so he could finish drinking it.  It caused Morrigan and Shea to exchange smiling, knowing looks.

Three of them chat the whole way to the war room at how well-mannered Kieran is and what a fine young man he will grow up to be.  Josephine and Leliana are already there when they enter.

Shea takes her usual spot across from the advisors as Cullen takes his spot.  Morrigan stands next to Shea.  “So, this is it then.”

Leliana nods, “Morrigan you said you had something we could use?”

“I have a way to match his dragon, yes.  Though it is up to you to take on Corypheus, Inquisitor.”

Shea nods, “If we can find him.”  She massages her marked palm.  Feeling the magic crackle.

Leliana sighs, “We’ve been looking for his base from the start and have had no luck so far.”

Cullen looks over at her, “His dragon has to come on go from somewhere.  Someone is bound to have seen it.”

Josephine sets her board down.  “What about the deep roads?  Has anyone asked Orzammar if…”

Shea’s mark flares and a loud crack is heard.  Green light floods in the through the windows and her hand echoes it.  She holds up her hand gripping her forearm.  She looks out the window and the others follow her gaze.  A familiar tearing sound fills their ears and the sky swirls.  Shea’s breath gets caught in her throat.  The Breach is back.

They group is silent for a moment.  Morrigan turns to Shea, “It seems he is not content to wait.”

Shea sighs.  “He’s in the valley of Sacred Ashes.  That’s just great.”

Morrigan sneers towards the Breach.  “You either seal it once more, or it swallows the world.”

Josephine hugs her board to her chest.  “But that would kill him as well.”

Cullen presses his palms into the table.  His eyes fall on his markers.  All but a few are in the Arbor Wilds.  He groans.  “Inquisitor.  We have no forces to send with you.  They are all still in the Arbor Wilds.  We must wait for them.”

Shea rubs her face.  “Which was his plan all along, I suppose.  And we walked right into it.”  She looks up at the Breach.  How long has it been since that day?  A year, maybe less?  Another full circle moment it would seem.  All eyes except Cullen’s are on her.  He knows what she is about to say and he desperately wishes she wouldn’t say it.  “We can’t wait.  I can feel it.  He’s making it bigger than it was before.  If we don’t act now…”  She looks at the top of Cullen’s head.  She wants him to look at her, but knows that he won’t.  “It will take time to get to the valley.  But we need to leave as soon as possible.  Leliana, gather your people, we will need some of them to fight and some to help defend.  Commander, you and the people who have left will defend Skyhold.  Josephine, start planning the victory feast.”  This is when he looks up at her.  She is staring out the window, glaring at the Breach.  He knows the shape her body is in.  She isn’t at peak fighting form.  But she thinks she’s going to win.  “Let’s move people.  We don’t have much time.”  Shea turns on her heel and rushes out the war room. 

As soon as she enters the throne room, it is teaming with people.  She heads for her throne and stands in front of it.  The room is buzzing with terrified voices.  She stomps her heel loudly on the marble.  “Inquisition!”  They all quiet and look at her.  “Corypheus comes for us, but we are ready!  You know what needs to be done!  We have prepared for this day since that monster attacked us at Haven.”  Cullen and the advisors step into the throne room when they hear her speaking.  “We will not let him do to us now what he did to us then!  I would rather die than let that happen!”  Cullen ducks out of the room through the garden door.  “But I have no intention of dying!  Not today!  Today that bastard pays for his crimes!  Inquisition!  Are you with me?”  The hall erupts in a chorus of cheers. “You know the plan.  Anyone not fighting or defending our walls, needs to go to the undercity.  Stay in your homes.  You are safe there.  If you want to help fight, report to…”  She pauses and quickly runs through the people who are still there.  Only one soldier of any rank is here.  “Report to Jim, he and the Commander will station you around Skyhold to protect our people.  We will face Corypheus where it all began!  And we will emerge victorious!”  The room cheers.  She heads towards her quarters as the throne room buzzes. 

Before she makes it to her door, Josephine stops her.  “Inquisitor?”

“Yes?”

“I have a lot of dignitaries here.  Do you think the guest rooms will be safe enough or should we relocate them to the undercity?”

Shea pats her on the arm.  “If all goes well in the valley, he won’t be coming anywhere close to here.  If you want to show them we aren’t afraid, have them stay in their rooms.  If they want to move anyway, that’s fine too.  But we need to know where everyone is at all times until the threat has passed.”

Josephine bows her head and curtsies.  “I wish you luck, Inquisitor.  For all our sakes.”  Josephine turns from her and rushes to where the group of nobles who have gathered. 

Shea quickly goes into her room, locks the door, and rushes up the stairs.  She goes right for the balcony that faces the mountains.  She stares up at the Beach and her chest tightens.  This is it.  Everything has been building to this moment.  She grips the railing of the balcony and her arm protests.  “Fuck!  Damn it!”  She punches the railing and then cups her hand.  “Shit!”  She goes over to her armor and pulls a healing potion from a pouch on her belt.  She drinks it then pitches the bottle off the balcony and takes a deep breath.  She centers herself and then dons her armor.  Her ties her hair up into a high ponytail. 

 _Luck.  Josie wished me luck._   She throws open the doors of her wardrobe.  She pulls out her halla necklace, puts it on, and shoves it into her leather padding.  She pulls out her signet ring and puts in it a pouch on her belt.  Then she pulls out his coin.  She traces that face of Andraste with her gloved finger.  She presses it to her lips and sticks it in different pouch on her belt.  Only because she doesn’t want the metal to clink if she needs to be stealthy.  She looks around their room.  She goes over to the bookshelf and looks for a certain book.  She pulls the copy of her family ledger.  She flips toward the back and then pulls an envelope from the pages.  His name is written in her delicate handwriting.  She runs her gloved fingers along the letters.  She had written it before going to the Arbor Wilds.  Her farewell letter if she died fighting Corypheus.  She presses her lips to the envelope sticks it up her sleeve.  She puts the book back on the shelf.  She grabs her axe off the wall and swings it onto her back.  Her muscles ache, but she would just have to fight through it.  As she starts down the stairs, she stops.  Her hand presses against her stomach.  She fights the wave of anxiety that hits her.  She pushes all thoughts of her child from her head.  The situation is dangerous enough.  She could worry about it later.

She goes down the stairs and bypasses the throne room door.  She goes to Sky’s cage and scratches the bird’s head.  She pulls the letter from her sleeve.  “If I die today… come get this off my body and deliver it to Cullen.”  The raven tilts it head and squawks.  She scratches Sky’s head one the last time before slipping the letter back up her sleeve.  She climbs the stairs.  She pauses with her hand on the door and takes a centering breath.  She opens it and enters the throne room.  All of her friends are gathered and are dressed for battle.  This includes Moira and the Dalish hunters.  Shea has somehow forgotten all about them and her relief is plain as day.  She stands in front of all of them.  Her friends.  No.  Her family.  “I’m not sure what to say.  Except thank you.  I feel like I don’t say that enough.  I wouln’t be here without you and… I glad you’ll be with me this time.”

Bulls laughs, “No mountains this time?”

She smiles, “Hopefully not.”  She looks at Moira.  “I will need you to be with Leliana’s people or maybe Cullen’s.  I’m not sure where you’ll be needed most.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“So… we’re going to leave soon, but I have one last thing I need to do.  It shouldn’t take long.  I’ll meet you all by the gates.”

Cassandra steps forward, “He’s in the Chantry.”

“Thank you.  That will save me time looking for him.”

They all head out.  She walks with them until she reaches the garden door and goes through it.  The normally buzzing garden is empty.  She heads towards the back corner where Mother Giselle has set up a statue of Andraste in a large room off the garden as Skyhold’s makeshift Chantry.  The door is open.  She sees him right away.  Kneeling in front of it.

Cullen has been praying since he fled the throne room during her speech.  He knows he has work to do, but he needs to do this.  His spirit is fracturing and his heart aches.  This is the moment he’s been fearing since Haven.  After everything, this could be the moment he loses her.  “Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide.  I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the beyond.  For there is no darkness in the Maker’s light and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.”

Shea walks towards him.  “Who are you prayer for?”

Cullen looks at her over his shoulder.  “For those we have lost.  And…”  He looks forward at the floor.  “And those I am… afraid to lose.”

“You’re afraid?”

He stands and nearly walks past her.  He stops.  “Of course I am!  He nearly killed you once before.  Andraste preserve me, I must… send you to him.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to worry.”  She pulls his coin from her pocket.  “I have luck on my side.”  She holds it towards him in the palm on her hand.  He looks down at the coin and then back up at her.

He chuckles softly, “That’s less comforting than I had hoped.”  She sticks the coin back in the pouch.  He looks away from her.  She reaches out to touch his arm.  She doesn’t even touch him before realizing it’s not enough.  She throws her arms around his shoulders.  He wraps his arms tightly around her waist.  He buries his face in the crook of her neck and inhales her scent.  “Whatever happens, you _will_ come back.”

“Cullen, you don’t have to…”

“Just let me have this.  To believe anything else… I can’t.”

She feels his tears hit her neck.  He isn’t just afraid, he is terrified.  He is convinced she is going to die.  She was almost regretting not telling him until this very moment.  She was completely right.  He wouldn’t have been able to handle it.  His grip tightens around her.  “Don’t cry, my love.”

“I’m not… It all feels like it’s falling apart.  Just when things seem to be…”

“Nothing is falling apart.  I _will_ be back.  I _will_ defeat him.”

“You sounded so confident during your speech… you still do.  How is that even possible?”

She sighs into the fur at his shoulders.  “Because I have something worth living for.”  He pulls back slightly to look into her eyes.  She wipes his tears from his face.  “Don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about.  It’s you.  _You_ are what I have to live for.”

“I sometimes find it hard to believe that this is real.  That one day I’m going to wake up and this will all be some lyrium induced fever dream.”

“This is very real.  I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.  All the more reason to come back, I suppose.  I wouldn’t be here without you.  I’ve said it many times before and I will continue to say it.”

“You’re too good for me.”

“Hush now.  Tell me you love me.  Kiss me.  And go do your job.  Our numbers are few, but there are plenty of people who want to fight.  I am coming back to you.  Do not doubt it.”

He hugs her as tightly as he can in their armor.  He inhales her scent at the crook of her neck before kissing the spot.  He pulls back and grabs her face.  “I love you.”

“I love you too.”  He press his lips against hers.  She weaves her fingers into his hair holding is his face on hers.  Their lips move frantically against each other.  They kiss for longer than they probably should, but they can’t bring themselves to stop.  Eventually, as she lips grow sore and swollen, she pulls his head from hers.  He gasps to close the distance again.  “Cullen.  I have to go.”

“Stay.  I can’t…”

“You know that I have to.  It’s my job.”

“Fuck your job!  Please stay!”

His pleas tug at her heart.  She wants to give in to him so badly.  To give him everything he wants.  “We knew he would come.  We knew it when I took this job.”  She puts her hands on each side of his face.  Her eyes locked with his tear filled eyes.  As they spill over his lashes, she wipes them away.  “Cullen.  I love you.  And I promise you that I will come back to you.  Meet me on the landing outside the throne room.  When the battle is over and that asshole is dead, I will meet you there.”

He grabs her face and forcefully kisses her again.  She returns his kiss.  He pulls away.  “I love you too.”  He drops his hands from her face and steps back from her.  He looks down at the ground waiting to hear her footsteps.  Instead he feels her gloved thumb run down his scar.  He sighs and looks into her eyes.  They are as bright and fierce as the day he first saw them.  He finds comfort in this.  He brushes his fingers down her scar.  She quickly kisses him before walking out the door.  He watches her go.  Her steps full of purpose and determination.  He runs his fingers through his hair.  She stops and turns before she leaves the garden.  Her smile bright even from this distance.  His heart soars.  If she believes she can do this, then who is he to doubt her?  He shakes his head to clear his mind and heads to the courtyard to organize what remains of his troops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story. I wasn't actually planning to have any smut in this chapter. Sometimes we just can't control our characters lol. I blame Cole.
> 
> UPDATED July 25, 2018


	63. The End Where I Begin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this appears to be it for this section. Part 2 is up! Also, get ready for a whopper of a plot twist. I hope people like it as it just sort of came to me lol.
> 
> *** time/pov shift

Shea stands before the ancient darkspawn.  His dragon is dead.  He is no longer immortal.  He cries out to the Old Gods begging for their aid.  She is the only one left standing.  Dorian, Bull, Varric, and Morrigan are all unconscious.  At least she hopes Morrigan is just unconscious, no one has been able to get close enough to her to check.  She can feel her body barely hanging on, but he is faltering too.  Just as it always does, her mark twitches.  She looks at the red glowing orb.  She holds out her hand and she can feel the mark calling to the orb.  Has it always been this way?  The mark could have pulled the orb to her if she willed it?  That bit of information could have been useful ages ago.  She could have prevented so many things from happening.

She fully activates the mark at the orb and it flies from Corypheus’s hands, hitting him in the face, as she takes control of it.  He roars.  She can’t stop the smug smirk that crosses her face.  She wonders what else this orb can do.  Besides opening the Breach, this magical artifact had to have more than one use.  _Solas called it a Foci, used to enhance magic.  Magic was capable of almost anything.  First things first though._  She turns her attention to the sky.  She sends magic into the Breach and permanently seals it.  She knows without a doubt that it will never open again.  She uses her magic to stich the torn veil together.  Lights dance in the sky, like a scar.

She looks around at her friends, they are injured and Morrigan might even be dying.  And Maker only knows what’s happening on the ground below them.  The orb buzzes in her hand at her thoughts.  The mark and orb are magic.  They have given her power over the Fade but she feels something else as she holds it.  Something deep inside her begging for release.  She holds the glowing orb out in front of her.  She shifts her weight and finally feels the pain that she is in.  Her body fills with fire, but it isn’t unpleasant.  Her aching muscle feel stronger.  Her injuries fade away.  _Did I… Did I just heal myself?_   She touches the side of head, where she knows she was hit.  No pain.  She looks at her glove.  No blood.  _Maker’s breath.  I just healed myself._  

Her mind buzzes.  She can feel something growing, something powerful.  A strange sensation she has never felt before.  She spots Dorian on the ground.  The poor mage is bleeding and broken on the ground.  _If I can heal myself, then maybe…_ She focuses on him.  Willing him to be healed.  Green light surrounds him.  She can feel his injuries.  His leg is broken as is his hand.  His body is bruised and a large gash runs up his arm.  The green lights turns into tiny green orbs and enter him.  She feels skin, muscle, sinew, and bone kit together.  He stirs and begins to press himself off the ground.  He looks up at her.  Her heart swells and the power in her grows.  Her view shifts to Bull, then Varric, and finally she reaches out further away to Morrigan.

Dorian sits back on his heels and watches magic pour from her.  The orb in her hand is calm.  He is stunned and frozen in his spot on the ground watching his warrior friend use magic.  Bull sits up, then Varric, and then finally Morrigan.  Shea drops the orb and turns he gaze to Corypheus, who is also too stunned to move.  She charges him.  Her teeth barred.  “You want to enter the fade?”  She presses her marked hand against his head and he roars in pain as she opens a rift inside him.  Tearing him apart.  The ground shakes as her companions come to stand next to her.  Rocks fall from the sky and the floating temple starts to fall. They run and dodge.  Then Shea feels some sort of pull inside her.  She stops running and lets whatever she is feeling out.  A large barrier shoots out from her.  Protecting her and her boys.

When the dust settles, she drops the barrier.  They all just stare at her.  “What?”

“Shea…”

“What?”

Dorian places his hand on her shoulder.  She feels his magic flow around her.  “Vishante kaffas!  You’re a mage!”

“Excuse me?!”  All eyes are on her.

“Darling, there’s no mistaking it.  You are a mage.”

“That’s impossible!”

Varric throws his hands into the air, “Just when you think shit can’t get any weirder.”  He and Bull walk away. 

Her eyes search Dorian’s.  “There has to be some mistake.  All I did was use the orb to…”  She looks around the area.  Solas is kneeling next to the broken orb.  Shea’s chest tightens.  She remembers how it felt to use the orb.  She can still feel its power.  She feels a panic attack coming.  She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths.  She feels Dorian pat her on the arm and leave.  _Think about something else.  Solas looks upset, comfort him._   “I’m so sorry, Solas.  Can it be repaired?”

He sets the broken piece in his hand on the ground.  “No.  And it’s not _your_ fault.”  He turns to face her.  “It wasn’t supposed to be this way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whatever happens… know that I will always respect you.”

She studies his down trodden face, “You’re leaving.  Aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t stop you if that’s what you want, but I must ask.  What about Moira?”

He casts his eyes to the side.  “What about her?”

“You’re just going to leave and not say anything to her?”

“We said our farewells last night.  She knows I’m leaving.”

“I see.  And how did she feel about that?”

He looks up at her.  “She ended whatever it was we had, so I suppose my leaving will make her happy.”

“Oh.  I’m sorry then.  But Solas… if you ever change your mind and want to come back, you’ll always have a place here.”

“Thank you, Shea.”

Cassandra’s voice drifts up from down below.  “Inquisitor! Are you alive?”

She smiles at Solas and pats him on the arm as she passes him.  He grabs her hand and makes her look at him.  “What?”  He studies her face, looks deep into her eyes.  He frowns at whatever he sees there.  “Solas.  What is it?”

“Are… are there elves in your family?”

“Uh… not that I’m aware of.”

He looks down at her glowing hand in his.  “None of this makes sense.  So many things have happened that I never accounted for.”  He isn’t speaking to her so much as speaking to himself.  He looks back into her eyes.  “Do yourself a favor.  Find out how this happened.  And find an instructor.  Becoming a mage at your age is… unheard of.  Of any mage in existence, you might be the most vulnerable to possession due to the Anchor.”   He drops her hand.

“You are the second person to call me a mage.  But that’s impossible.  I don’t feel any different than I did before.”

“I’m not sure.  I will look into it.  Now go.  They are waiting for you.”

“Dareth shiral, ma falon.”

“Ma serranas.”  She turns from him and heads down the stairs. 

Morrigan is still clutching her side. Her voice is full of pain when she speaks.  “Victorious, I see.  And alive at that.  What a novel result.  And it appears that the Breach is finally closed.”  They all look up at the scarred sky.  Shea can’t help but smile.  She won.  It’s over. 

“Let’s go back to Skyhold.  I’m sure I have a very nervous fiancé waiting for me.”

Everyone turns to go, except Morrigan and Dorian.  Shea finishes her decent down the stairs.  Her skin tingles as she looks at Morrigan.  Without even thinking about it, Shea places her right hand on Morrigan’s ribs.  Magic flows into her.  When she removes her hand, Morrigan straightens.  “So, it’s true.”

Shea looks down at her unmarked hand.  She can still feel the magic subsiding.  Her eyes start to well up with tears.  She’s suddenly very afraid of herself.  “What… Why… How is this happening to me?”

“I don’t know.  But I intend to find out.”

Shea takes a deep breath.  She rubs her temples and closes her eyes.  Dorian puts his hand on her shoulder.  “Come.  We shouldn’t keep them waiting.  We’ll figure this out.”  She nods and three of them follow after the rest.

***

Cullen is pacing the landing on the stairs in front of the throne room.  Leliana and Josephine are standing there with him.  The villagers and anyone else who stayed in Skyhold have filled the courtyard and line the battlements.  They have left a wide path from the gate to the stairs.  A horn sounds.  It’s not the same as an attacking signal.  It is signaling her return.  He stops his pacing and stands at the edge of the landing facing the gate.  She is the first one through, followed by the inner circle, and then any soldier still alive after the battle.  The gathered crowd erupts into deafening cheers.  His body itches for her to be in his arms.  She makes eye contact with him as she walks.  He holds her gaze for as long as her path allows.  The inner circle stops in the courtyard.  As she crosses under the arch way under the stairs, he turns with the advisors to continue tracking her progress.  She stops at the landing.  The three advisors bow to her and she bows her head in return.

Then he steps forward, opening his arms wide, tears of joy in his eyes.  His arms circle around her back and her arms wraps around his shoulders.  He nuzzles his nose against her neck.  He inhales her familiar scent and smiles.  She buries her face in his fur and smiles.  They breathe in the smell of each other before pulling apart.  He laces his fingers with hers and leads her to front of the landing.  Her eyes scan the crowd.  She smiles down at them all.  The people she has saved.  She makes eye contact with each of her adopted family. Leliana steps next to her, “Could I have a word before this party gets too crazy?”

“Certainly.”  Everyone makes their way into the throne room.  The inner circle pats her back as they pass her. 

Cullen squeezes her hand before letting it go.  “Don’t take too long.”  The bright smile on his face makes his eyes crinkle.  She returns his smile and he turns to go up the stairs.

Shea walks slowly beside Leliana.  “My agents have found no trace of Solas.  He has vanished.  If he does not want to be found, there is likely very little I can do, but I will keep looking.”

“We always suspected that his stay with us wasn’t permanent.  His job is done.  If he wishes to go back to being the wondering apostate he was before, then we shouldn’t stop him.  But if he decides to come back, he is welcome to.”

Leliana nods and they go into the throne room.  “Now that Corypheus is defeated, we have a moment to stop and celebrate.  After that, we will be very busy.  Every noble in Thedas will not doubt want to meet you.”

Shea chuckles, “Oh _now_ they want to meet me?”

“You have proven once and for all that you are indeed the solution to many of the problems in this world.  Empress Celene.  Briala.  All of Orlais and Ferelden.  The mages and maybe even the templars.  The Chantry.  Everyone is lining up to seek your council and assistance.”

Shea shakes her head, “Where was all this love when we actually needed it?”

Leliana laughs, “Such is the nature of those with power.  They love you when you succeed and despise you if you fail.  Enjoy the evening while you can, Inquisitor.”  They smile at each other as Leliana walks away.

The party is in full swing.  No one wasted any time breaking out the alcohol and food.  Shea drifts between tables, checking in with people, finding out what their plans are.  Varric is planning on going back to Kirkwall.  She can’t blame him.  It’s his home and he loves it.  Sera is sticking around for a while as is Cole.  Though Cole also expresses that he doesn’t know where he’d go even if he did want to.  Blackwall is also sticking around.  He wants to help her put the world back together. 

Cullen hand brushes across her back as he passes her.  He’s been doing little things like that all night.  This time she follows him.  She watches him get more ale.  Then he smiles widely when he sees that she has followed him.  “It’s hard to believe that it’s over.  Am I crazy or do we actually have a moment to breathe?”

“Maybe just a tiny one.”

He chuckles, “I think you’re right.  It’s hard to believe that this time a year ago we all thought you were responsible for killing the Divine.  And now we’re here.  Victorious.  All because of you.”

She runs her finger down his scar, “You were in charge of our forces long before I came along.  And we both know that I wouldn’t even be alive right now if you hadn’t entered my life at Haven.”

He sets his tankard down on a nearby table and takes her hands, “Not to get all sentimental in the middle of a celebration.  But I should be thanking _you_. You gave me a chance to prove myself… to shake off my past and create a new brighter future.  If I were in your position, I’m not sure I would have done the same.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.  I never have.”

He smiles, “I should let you mingle.  I’m sure others require your attention.” He steps closer to her, his voice dipping low.  “As much as I’d like to keep you all to myself.”

She smirks, “You’re evil.”

“And you are cruel.”  He kisses her briefly.  She walks backwards from him before returning to the party.

She makes it a point to talk to every member of the inner circle.  It seems that the social lubricant as made them all want to confess their plans for what comes next.  And she is hungry for that information.  Josephine is stressing out about the party.  Shea reassures her that everything is perfect.  Leliana and Josephine are both sticking around.  There is much work to be done and they can’t see themselves being anywhere else.  All Vivienne can talk about is getting the circles up and running again.  Though if Shea has her way, Leliana will be named Divine and the circles will be no more.  Which given her new circumstances, she is grateful for.  She finds Cassandra off to the side looking down at the necklace Brandon gave her.

“Thinking about my brother?”

Cassandra smiles, “As a matter of fact, I am.  I was… considering going to visit him now that this is all over.  I plan on coming back, of course!  There is still a lot of work to do.  And I can’t just abandon my post.  But Varric has offered to provide passage for me to the Free Marches, since he happens to be headed that way.”

“Take all the time you need, Cassandra.  Skyhold will still be here when you return.  And if you could find out who’s trying to kill us while you’re there, that would be super.”

Cassandra smiles and pats Shea on the arm.  “There’s something different about you.”

“Is that your _professional_ opinion?”

Cassandra gets the clue and uses her Seeker abilities to read her.  She gasps.  “When did that happen?”

“During the battle with Corypheus.  I don’t know how or why.  But… I’m sure you are wondering why we weren’t injured after the battle.”  Cassandra nods, “That was me.”

Cassandra looks over her shoulder at Cullen, his nerdy laugh echoing in the hall as he listens to Varric’s joke.  “Have you told him?”

“How would I even go about doing that?  He’s still skittish around magic.  I can’t just go ‘Surprise!  I’m a mage now!’  He’d freak out.  I already have one big thing to tell him, I shouldn’t throw two things at him.”

“Two big things?  Can I ask what?”

“I think I should tell him first.”

“Alright.  Do try to relax and enjoy yourself.  You’ve earned it.”

Shea turns from her.  She spots Moira across the room, leaning in the doorway to the rotunda.  She goes right for her.  Moira backs into the rotunda as Shea approaches.  Shea closes the door behind her.  Moira leans on the desk.  “He seems to have finished it before he left. Though I just can’t figure out what this last one means.”

Shea stands next to Moira and examines the last panel on the rotunda wall.  It is lighter than the rest.  Golds, browns, and creams.  It depicts a gigantic wolf growling over what appears to be a dead dragon with a sword sticking out of it.  “Everything else is a history of my biggest decisions, but what on earth could that possibly be?”

“I don’t know.  To me it looks like paintings I’ve seen of Fen’Heral, but the dragon?  That could be Mythal.  But Abelas said Fen’Heral didn’t kill her.  So, why paint this?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe he’s grieving for her?  Could it be a bear?”

“Why ask that?”

“Well, Varric calls me Cub and I did kill Corypheus’s dragon.”

Moira sighs, “Stupid egg headed elf.”

Shea looks over at her.  “Are you ok?”

She shrugs.  “I will be.”

“What happened?”

“When he came back from trying to help you last night, he pulled me out of bed and made me get dressed.  We used magic to get to some waterfall.  He told me vallaslin were originally slave markings given to us by the Evanuris.  He implied that my markings, those of Mythal, branded me as her slave.  He offered to remove them and I turned him down.  We fought and I ended things.  Told him I never wanted to see him again.  So, in a nutshell, I’m fine.  A little sad because I thought I had finally found someone that believed in our people as much as I do.  But I suppose I was wrong.”

“Why do you think you were wrong?  Is there no possibility that he could be right?”

Moira pushes off the desk.  “What would you know?  You’re a shem!”

Shea throws up her hands, “Easy there.  I’m not saying he is right, but maybe to just consider it.  He’s been right about a lot of things.”

“And wrong too.”

“Yes.  But I think… never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Moira sighs, “It’s not your fault.  He just gets under my skin that’s all.  If he’s right about this, then everything I know about my people gets put into question.  The things I learned at the Temple of Mythal changed enough as it is.”

“It’s a sore issue with you, I should know better.”  Shea pushes off the desk and approaches the newest painting.  She touches it with her marked hand.  The paint is still wet.  “This is still fresh.”

Moira stands next to her and touches the wall.  “It’s sealed but not dry.  Which means he could still be in Skyhold, unless he used magic.”

“Are you going to go after him?”

Moira stares up at the painting.  “I need to get back to my people, but… I want to.  Maybe I can try for a little while, before going back.”

“There’s always the Fade.”

“True.”  Moira shakes her head, “So, is everything ok with…”

Shea looks down at herself.  “I haven’t even checked yet.”

“Where’s Morrigan?”

“Probably recovering and spending time with Kieran.”  Shea wonders if she could do Morrigan’s test to herself.  She closes her eyes.  She figures she doesn’t need to make contact physically as she is always in physical contact with herself.  She mentally scans her body.  Moira gasps and steps back from her.  Shea feels like tiny life still growing inside her.  She lets the scan fade and opens her eyes.

“When the hell did you become a mage?  How the hell did you become a mage?”

Shea shrugs, “I don’t know.  It happened during my face off with Corypheus.  I’m not entirely sure how it happened.  Maybe I always was.”

“That’s not how that works.  Adults can’t just suddenly become mages.”

Shea rubs her chin.  “Solas asked me an odd question before he left.  He asked if there were elves in my family.”

Moira laughs, “Oh yeah.  The great House Trevelyan tainted by elf blood.”

“Well, Emeric was part Tevinter and he ended up being a mage.  A blood mage to be exact.  So, my father could have had more than one affair.”

“But you and Brandon look alike.”

“I have the signature Trevelyan eyes.  So we know that we have the same father.  But that doesn’t mean we have the same mother.  Or… maybe it’s mother’s side of the family that has elf blood.  She could still be my mother, but somewhere along the line someone had a child with an elf.”

“How did he ask exactly?”

“He asked it like he was studying me.  He also hesitated slightly before asking.  ‘Are… are there elves in your family?’  Why do you ask?”

“I need to look up some information.  I have a feeling I know why he asked that, but I need to do some research.  So, we’re not going anywhere for a while.”  Moira playfully shoves her, “Now go get back to your party!  I’ve got work to do.”

Shea smiles at her friend and then goes back into the throne room.  She sees Bull laughing with Dorian, who is sitting on the table.  She approaches them.  “Hey Boss!”

“Are you boys behaving yourselves?”

Dorian smirks, “Always.”

Shea smiles, “Any plans for the future?  Now that the big magister asshole is dead?”

Bull looks up at Dorian, “He doesn’t know this yet, but I’m going wherever he’s going.”

Dorian looks down at him, “And if I’m going home?”

“Then the Chargers and I are coming too.”

Dorian laughs, “Oh I can see it now!  A Qunari and his bands of mercenaries walking down the streets on Minrathous escorting the returning pariah.  What will people say?”

“I don’t give a shit what people say.”  Shea catches Bull’s hand stroking something around his neck.

“Is that a dragon tooth?”

Bull’s face lights up.  “A gift from Dorian.”

Dorian rolls his eyes, “Some Qunari custom about expressing your bound with someone.  Blah blah blah.”

“I love you too, Kadan.”

Dorian runs his hand along one of Bull’s horns.  “In any case, I’m not leaving any time soon.  I will one day, but I can’t leave my best friend in her hour of need.”  He looks around to make Cullen is out of ear shot, “You’re a baby mage now.  You will need a teacher.  I humbly offer my services.”

Shea smiles, “Thank you, Dorian.”

“When do you plan on telling your handsome, ex-templar fiancé?”

She sighs, “I kind of want to know how this happened before I drop that bomb on him.”

Bull chuckles, “Then maybe no victory sex.  I know from experience that even a talented and well-seasoned mage might accidentally set the curtains on fire when they get over stimulated.”

Dorian scoffs, “It was one time.”

“The only thing I’ve managed to do thus far is healing or protective magic.”

Dorian nods, “He is right though.  You are completely untrained.  And it is currently a complete mystery as to how this happened.”

“I’m not completely untrained.”  She waves her marked hand in the air.

“Yes, but the Anchor is different from regular magic.  It’s ancient and has a very specific purpose.  Though I must admit, that the spells you used in the heat of battle to heal us were all very advanced.  None of us, not even Morrigan, have scars.  And the distance in which you were able to do it…  You couldn’t even see Morrigan.”

“Enough of this magic crap.  Is this a party or what?!”  Bull puts a drink in Dorian’s hands.  Shea suddenly feels very tired and extremely overwhelmed.  She waves at the couple and heads for her quarters.

“You managed to slip away?”  She smiles and turns to see Cullen approaching her.  “I thought I might claim more of your… attention after all.”  The smirk on his face let’s her know exactly what he means.  Her heart flutters and her cheeks redden.

“Is there something in particular you were thinking about?”

His voice is low and grumbly, “Everything.”

She grabs the fabric that covers his armor and pulls him with her as she backs into her door.  She pushes it open and pulls him inside.  He closes the door behind him and bolts it.  They climb the stairs together and she unhooks the bell on the way up.

He stands in the center of their room.  “The battle is over.  Someone will be Divine.  And there’s plenty of work to do be done.  But I don’t care about any of that.  That I care about right now is that you are alive.”

She steps closer to him.  This is the moment.  She needs to tell him now.  She runs her hands up his arms.  “Cullen…”

He brushes his nose against hers, “I’m not sure what happens after this…”

She backs away from him and walks to the balcony facing the mountains.  He stands behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.  “I have a pretty good idea.”

He nuzzles her neck.  “Is that so?”

She turns in his arms.  She wants out of this armor. She wants him out of his armor.  “First… we celebrate.  Then we’ll talk.”

He cups her face and kisses her.  “I think I can manage that.”

“You get started I need to do something first.”

“Alright.”

She goes over to her wardrobe and opens the doors.  She puts her necklace, her signet ring, and his coin back in their place.  She pulls the letter out of her sleeve.  She can officially burn it.  But that will have to wait.  She hides it in the pocket of a dress she’s never worn and closes the doors.  When she turns back to him, he is standing next to her armor rack completely nude.  Her mouth waters.  She slowly walks toward him.  He holds out his hand towards her and she takes it.  “You’re not still sore are you?”

She smiles, “No.  I’m not.”  If only he knew why.

“Well. I think you’ve done enough work for one day.  So, allow me.”  He slowly starts to unbuckle her armor.  She closes her eyes.  Memories flood her senses.  Him teaching her to put on armor for the first time.  Her failed armor striptease.  His successful armor striptease.  Their first sparring match.  She opens her eyes and watches his expert hands move across the metal and leather.

“Do you remember when you taught me how to put on armor?”

He smiles as he continues his work.  “How could I forget?  It took everything I had to keep from touching you.”

“But you didn’t.  You could have.”

“If only I had known that then.”

“I was distracted by you.  How close you were to me.  I didn’t catch a single thing you showed me I was so… mesmerized about how close you were.”

He smirks, “And now?”

“You still drive me crazy.  But now I can actually do something about it.”

He smiles and kisses the end of her nose.  “I’m glad I still drive you crazy.  You are quite distracting yourself.”

“And now we get to distract each other for the rest of our lives.  There is nothing and no one who can take that away from us.”

He places her armor on the rack.  He turns back to her and traces her scars.  “I feel like I know your body almost as well as I know mine.”

She closes her eyes and her skin tingles as he caresses her.  His rough fingers dragging across the damaged skin.  If it weren’t for him, she would have never come to like her scars.  His deft fingers unlace her breast band and lets it fall to the floor.  His hands cups her supple mounds.  Her hardened peaks press into his palms.  Her mouth opens and a pleased sigh escapes her lips.  He caress her soft skin, gently teasing her nipples.  She sighs and moans.  He suddenly scoops her up in his arms.

He carries her to their bed and carefully sets her down.  She lays back and looks up at him.  He hooks his fingers into her waistband and slowly pulls her panties down her legs.  He drops them on the floor.  He caresses her legs with his lips travelling all the way up her body until her reaches her lips.  He kisses her the intensity of a gently roaring fire.  Not hard, but heated. 

His presses hot kisses across her jaw and down her neck.  She breathes his name.  He breathes hers in return.  She places her hands on the side of his face.  She can’t wait anymore.  It’s been on the tip of her tongue all night.  She needs to tell him now.  She pulls his face to hers. She kissing him a few times.  “I love you.”

He smirks against her lips.  “I love you, too.”

Their lips moved together.  Heat pools in every limb.  The words bubble in her throat.  “Cullen?”

“Yes, love?”  His can’t stop kissing her.  Drinking her in.

She forces his face away from hers.  “I need to tell you something.  Something important.”

He searches her face.  He finds excitement and concern in her eyes.  “You know you can tell me anything.”

She takes a deep breath.  She takes one of his hands and places it between her hips.  Not understanding her meaning, his hand drifts lower.  She stops his hand and holds it in place.  She looks deep into the warm depths of his honey eyes.  “Cullen.”

“Yes?”

“I’m pregnant.”  His mouth pops open and he looks down at where she placed his hand.  His breath takes flight.  She watches his face.  His vision shifts between her face and his hand.  She desperately needs to know his thoughts.  “Cullen?”  His eyes lock with hers.  “Are you… what are you thinking?”

“You’re serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious.”

His mouth crashes down on hers.  She smiles against the hard pressure of his mouth.  He pulls back from her.  “We’re having a baby?”

She laughs.  “Yes.”

“When did you know?”

She bites her lip.  “Last night.”

“Why didn’t you… I know why you didn’t say anything.  And you were right not to.  We wouldn’t be here like this if you had.  There would have been no way I would have let you leave.”

“You’re not angry?”

He laughs, “Love.  You just told me that you are carrying my child.  And the both of you survived today.  I… Maker…”  He flops onto his back.  His eyes close and his smile brightens his whole face.  “This can’t be real.  I feel like I’m soaring.”

She rolls over and props herself up on his chest.  She looks down at his bliss filled face and tries to memorize it.  “I have some news to add that might add to your joy.  I talked to Morrigan and she says that even at this early stage she can tell that it is strong.  The mark is just like any other magic and it won’t be hurt by it at all.”

“That’s great news!  I know we were worried about that.”

“She even said that I can continue working and fighting until my armor doesn’t fit anymore.”

He shakes his head, “You think I’m letting you leave Skyhold?  Don’t be silly.”

“Cullen, you said yourself there is still work to do.  I’m not made of glass.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“A marvelous idea!”

He props himself up on his elbows.  “What really?”

“Why not?  It’s called delegation, sweetheart.  Lysette and Jim can run things while you’re gone, like Cassandra does for me.  If there’s something important that needs your attention, they can send a raven.”

“Why haven’t we done that sooner?”

She chuckles, “Because we were at war.  But now we aren’t.”

“There are plenty of problems out there.”

“But no more war.  It’s over.  Now, we rebuild.”

He pulls her up to kiss her.  “This all seems too good to be true.  There is bound to be something that puts damper on this.”

She shakes her head, “Always the pessimist.”

“I’m a realist, love.  I am capable of seeing how things can go well, but I am not blind enough to ignore that things can easily go the other way.”

She brushes her fingers down his face.  She senses something off.  “Do you have a headache?”

“Uh… yes.  I’ve had one all day.”  She feels something building and she tries to lock it down.  But she doesn’t know how.  She pulls her hand away and sits up with her back to him.  _Stop.  Stop.  Stop.  Not now._   He sits up and places his hand on her back.  “Is something wrong?”

“Nope.  Everything is fine.”  She closes her eyes and tries to focus on the power building in her finger tips.  It doesn’t hurt, quite the opposite in fact.  It’s exhilarating, like swinging her axe through the air.  _He can’t handle this.  Please stop.  Damn this magic bullshit._   She can’t stop it though.  She doesn’t know how.  The spell to ease his pain has already been summoned and there is nothing she can do.  So, instead of wasting it, she turns to face him.  She places a hand on either side of his face.  “This is not how I wanted you to find out.”

“Find out what?”

His skin tingles.  He can feel magic in the air.  He can taste it.  What’s left of the lyrium in is blood is humming.  He closes his eyes as cool breath of air washes over him.  She runs her fingers through his hair and along his scalp.  The throbbing in his head dissipates.  The magic vanishes and her hands leave his hair.  His eyes snap open.  Her back is to him.

She is terrified.  This could very well be the moment he is just talking about.  The thing that brings their joy crashing down.  She leans forward and covers her face.  She presses her fingers into her sockets and waits.

He swallows hard.  He can’t really comprehend what just happened.  He needs her to tell him.  Help him.  His brain doesn’t seem to be working.  “Shea?”

“Do you hate me?”

He moves forward on the bed quickly and places his hand on her back.  “Hate you?  Why would you think...?”

Her words coming flying out her mouth.  “I wasn’t going to tell you.  I was just going to keep it hidden from you until I knew what the hell was happening to me.  I don’t know how or why but something happened to me during the battle and now… and now…”

“Shh.  Take a breath.  Calm down.”  He rubs her back as she tries to gain control of herself.  Once her breathing returns to normal, “Now then.  What is it that you were trying to keep from me?”

She looks at him with tears streaming down her face.  “Cullen…”  He wipes the tears from her terrified face.  He’s not sure what she’s so afraid of, but he’s not going anywhere.  “Cullen.  I’m a…” She sees the patience and love in his eyes.  She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a huff.  “Cullen.  I’m a mage.”

 

END OF PART 1

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!!!! Please leave comments! 
> 
> Love is an Addiction  
> PART 2: Pre-Trespasser thru Trespasser is up!
> 
> UPDATED July 25, 2018

**Author's Note:**

> Follow bevans87 on Tumblr for updates and news!


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